Happy Birthday Dallas
by zevie
Summary: COMPLETE Y'all may hate me for this. It may deserve the R rating but whatever. It's Dally's birthday and he's kissing someone...someone who's not a girl...
1. Chapter 1

Happy Birthday Dallas  
  
A/N: Okay, y'all, this is here because there seem to be a lot of people asking for this kind of story. It's not here because I'm good at them. I'm not. Just getting the ball rolling for anyone who really writes these fics. And I'm bored. Anyway, if you don't approve of homosexual activity, or really have something against putting The Outsiders characters in this kind of position, then DO NOT READ THIS STORY. You'll find it gross or something.  
  
P.S. They don't do much. Really, if anyone has read anything of mine, it's just the innuendo taken slightly farther. Ergo, no sex.  
  
P.P.S. Don't flame this story please. Go write your own.  
  
P.P.P.S. It's pre pre pre novel.  
  
P.P.P.P.S. It's a lot less funny then I think I am.  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I make nothing.  
  
~  
  
It was a warm, clear night. The inky black sky was sprinkled with sparkling stars, and a slight June breeze rustled through the grass. All in all it was a beautiful evening, but as he stalked down the deserted sidewalk Dallas Winston was more than a little pissed.  
  
A half hour ago he'd been perfectly happy, sitting in the dark at the drive in, his arm around some pretty little broad, a condom safely stowed in his pocket, ready to celebrate his the eve of his sixteenth year. And then she had to go and run off on him.  
  
Dally turned up the driveway of a nearby house, rubbing his cheek where she'd hit him. It was all Tim's fault, he thought glowering. He'd been the one to set up Dally's date.  
  
"I'm going to beat your head in Tim Shepard," he muttered to himself, hurrying up the steps. The house was dark, but he could hear the muffled tunes of Beatles music drifting down. Tim wasn't a Beatles fan. His sister was home. He shook his head, trying not to picture Angela in his mind. She was only a kid after all, but still.  
  
Dallas banged on the door with his fist, letting loose some of the tension that had been coursing through him all night. He leaned back against the brick to wait, but his temper caught up with him again and he bolted forward kicking the porch railing viciously.  
  
"Goddamn it," he swore softly, rubbing his foot. Dally turned back and leaned on the bell, impatient to talk with Tim. The door creaked open and Angela's haughty face appeared.  
  
"You can't wait a minute?" she snapped. Dally gave her a look that would have sent any girl running.  
  
Angela snorted. "That crap don't work on me. I got a brother who's twice as tough as you." She turned, leaving the door open for Dallas and sashayed her way out of the kitchen. Dally stepped into the house, letting his eyes linger on Angela's swaying backside. She was a piece; he'd have gone for her, but then 16-year-olds didn't date 13-year-olds, especially when the 13- year-old had a 18-year-old brother who could easily and with pleasure kick some 16-year-old ass.  
  
Dally climbed the stairs a little too quickly as usually (he almost fell), turned down the narrow hall and burst through the door to his friend's room without knocking. Some radio station was playing, and Tim was laying on his back on the bed, smoking a cigarette. He looked up when Dally entered.  
  
"Hey, that was a fast date," Tim said, his mouth curving into a smile.  
  
"Fuck you man," Dally replied breathlessly. "I thought you said she was easy."  
  
"Sylvia is easy," Tim drawled. "Guess you just have some troubled laying women."  
  
In a flash Dally was on him. The two grappled for a minute before Tim hollered. "Hey, waitaminute. Gotta put out my smoke."  
  
The rolled to the ground and within seconds Tim had Dallas pinned to the hardwood floor.  
  
"Holler Uncle," Tim said grinning. Dally glared at him, but he wasn't into the fight. He gave up quickly.  
  
Tim reached under the bed, pulling out a couple bottles of coke. "Hey, I wasn't expecting you so soon, but well, since you're here.got something to celebrate your birthday."  
  
Dally accepted the coke climbing onto Tim's bed. "Should be getting laid on my sixteenth birthday not drinking coke with you," he grumbled.  
  
Tim sat down beside him. "It's not coke," he said carefully, then took a swig from his bottle.  
  
Dally eyed the bottled suspiciously, then raised it to his lips and took a large swallow. He spit half his mouthful out and choked on the rest.  
  
"Goddamn Tim," he gasped, as his friend burst out laughing. "What is this?"  
  
"High quality shit," Tim replied. "Drink it Dal."  
  
Dally forced down another swallow. It burned all the way down and settled warmly in the pit of his stomach.  
  
"Tim!" Both boys looked up quickly. It was Angela. She glared at both boys. "Y'all shouldn't be drinking."  
  
"Aw, dry up Angel," Tim cussed at her good-naturedly. "It's his birthday."  
  
Angela put her hands on her hips. "So? You still shouldn't drink. I'll tell dad, Tim."  
  
"He wouldn't care."  
  
"Mom would care that you gave it to a kid and she'd tell dad to ground you."  
  
Outside, a horn honked loudly.  
  
Tim smirked. "Okay, I won't tell that you're going out after 10 again if you keep your trap shut."  
  
Angela beamed. "Happy Birthday Dallas," she called, flouncing out of Tim's room.  
  
"I ain't a kid," Dally hollered after her. He leaned back against the bed and watched out the window as Angela hopped into the waiting car.  
  
Tim took another gulp of his drink and turned to Dally. The blond was gazing out the window, his eyes blank. The usual tough look was gone from his face, and he looked younger than he usually did.  
  
"You really are still a kid ain't ya?"  
  
Dally glared at him. "Shut up. You ain't more'n two years older than me."  
  
Tim gulped down what was left in his bottle and tossed it aside. It was true, he wasn't that much older. He took a deep breath, feeling suddenly dizzy.  
  
"You alright?" Dally's eyes were trained on him, curious circles of ice blue fringed with light brown lashes. They cast spidery shadows across his cheeks, making his skin look paler than it was.  
  
Tim shook himself, trying to make his eyes see right. Dally looked different tonight for some reason. Brighter, younger.prettier.  
  
"You gonna finish that?" he asked roughly, taking the coke bottle from Dally before he could answer. He downed the contents in a couple of gulps and then tossed the empty bottle with his own. Then he looked back at Dally.  
  
Dallas watched him friend with one eyebrow raised. "Hope you can hold your liquor man."  
  
Tim's vision was swimming, and his head spun but he'd rather have swallowed his own vomit then admitted he couldn't take the drink. He shoved Dally lightly, watching his white-blond hair shine as he moved.  
  
"Course I can take it. I'm a man remember? Not like certain BOYS I know-"  
  
Dally yelped indignantly and launched himself at his friend. He caught Tim off balance and the two tumbled to the ground, rolling on the floor, knocking the bottles halfway across the room.  
  
Tim's hands caught up in Dally's hair, long and smooth and free of grease.  
  
"Oww.leggo!" Dally let go of Tim to grab at his hair, and in that instant Tim was on top of him.  
  
"Holler Uncle," Tim growled for the second time that night.  
  
Dally struggled underneath his heavier friend, refusing to be beaten twice. "Fuck you man," he spat, turning his head for fresh air. Tim's breath was hot against him and it stank of liquor.  
  
"Knew you were just a boy."  
  
Dally looked Tim straight in the eye, glaring at him. Tim could feel him squirm underneath him, he could feel the heat of his body and his breath from a mouth that was so close and before he knew what he was doing his lips were on Dally's.  
  
He kissed him.  
  
The second they touched went by like lightning, and the second after went on too long. Tim's mind screamed at him, his stomach heaved and he kept replaying the kiss over and over.  
  
Dally shoved Tim off him and ran for the door. He tore down the hall and tripped down the steps and went out the front door into the cool night and he didn't stop running until he'd hit the end of the block.  
  
He went down on his knees, panting from the race, his face flushed dark red. He leaned against the lamp pole, his eyes closed and he said the first thing that came to his mind:  
  
"Oh YEAH." 


	2. Chapter 2

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 2  
  
A/N: Hello, hello, looks like this one's not dead yet.  
  
P.S. This chapter is full of tastelessness. It's slash/pubescent crap.  
  
P.P.S. Still, no sex. And there probably won't be, sorry.  
  
P.P.P.S. Another well-deserved apology: I'm sorry to all future (past?) brides/lovers/girlfriends and just the general adoring mob that Dallas has cultivated. I know he's hot, cool, awesome. I share the opinion. You can criticise all you want by the way, it's your right, I'm not offended. Sorry guys, but he's at my mercy in these stories, and poor Dally gets to be gay in the 50s! Yay! Ok maybe not, but at least for Tim he is. He's totally (er, well almost) straight in my other stuff (he likes Cherry) so go read that! Please!  
  
~  
  
Back at home, for once, he was tossing and turning in his little bed, asleep and dreaming.  
  
Dallas woke with a jolt, groaning softly. He remembered everything he'd been dreaming and was both delighted and repulsed by it. Mentally he was having a fit. His body seemed much less threatened.  
  
He climbed out of the damp sheets, drenched with sweat and-  
  
"Ew, God!" Dally grimaced, tugging at his boxers, which were plastered stickily to his front. He staggered to the bathroom, grabbed a towel and turned on the bath, determined to wash the bed-sweat off of his body.  
  
He stumbled back to his closet-like room, grateful that his father had decided not to show up that evening. He stripped off his underwear, tossing them at a pile of dirty laundry. He pulled out some fresh clothes and checked the time: 3:54 in the morning.  
  
"Fantastic," Dally grumbled, trudging back to the bathroom.  
  
He dropped his clothes on the floor and slipped into the half-full bath. The warm water felt good, soothing, and he found himself slipping slowly into a kind of half-sleep.  
  
"Shit!" he gasped, sitting up quickly. Water splashed around him, sloshing out the sides of the bath. He leaned over and turned off the taps. He was already in up to his armpits, and the tub was about to overflow. He shook himself, trying to get out of the trance of sleep - and of that stupid dream.  
  
Dally leaned back against the tub, feeling more awake and more aroused than he really wanted to be. He picked up the soap, wrestling with the thoughts in his head. He didn't want to think about that dream or what it meant - ever. But his body was begging him for it. He'd been through this debate before, when he wanted a cigarette and Darry listed every disgusting chemical he could think of that was in one cancer stick. His body had won then, and it was winning now. He closed his eyes and tried to think of a girl, any girl, but his brain was too tired to work. Sighing in defeat, he let put down the soap and slipped his hands under the water, letting his thoughts drift back to Tim.  
  
~  
  
'Angela's home,' Tim thought numbly to himself. He was lying on the floor in his room staring at the ceiling and listening to whatever crap was on the radio as he had been for too many hours. Since Dally'd walked out on him. Hell, ran out on him was more like it.  
  
The door creaked open downstairs and then shut softly. Angela didn't have to worry - he was the only one home.  
  
Tim had thought of getting up. He'd thought of going to get something to eat, of calling Dally and telling him that it was all some stupid drunk thing (which it was after all), of throwing out those stupid bottles and swearing never to drink again, but he couldn't bring himself to move. Only now he really had to pee.  
  
"Tim? Ain't nobody home yet? Tim?" Angela flicked on the lights. "What's going on?"  
  
He hefted himself up off the ground and looked at her. Her lipstick was smudged and she had a breathless look to her face. Her eyes were sparkling.  
  
"Have a good date?" he questioned.  
  
Angela laughed. "Yeah, great. Not that it's any of your business, but I kissed him." She grinned proudly.  
  
Tim nodded. 'Me too.' He thought. "That all?"  
  
Angela shrugged. "You look like you've been drinking a lot."  
  
"I have."  
  
She glanced around uncomfortably. It wasn't like Tim to be so quiet. He should have been cussing her out for staying out so late, or cussing her out for being home too early, or throwing something at her and telling her to get the fuck out of his room, or talking her ear off about how her boyfriend was trouble. Not lying on his back in a dark room looking like some floozy had just broken his heart.  
  
"Where's Dallas?"  
  
Tim seemed to wince. "God I don't know."  
  
"Have a fight?"  
  
Tim shrugged. "None of your business anyway." He stood up quickly and brushed past her, heading for the bathroom.  
  
Angela's eyes narrowed. Tim seemed upset about Dally. If Dally'd done anything stupid.well she'd have to go talk to the tow-headed hood tomorrow then.  
  
"This room smells like a scotch bottle," she yelled at her brother's back, trying one last time for a response.  
  
He said nothing.  
  
!!!!!!!!!!!! Could it be? An actual plot?! Maybe. Maybe not. But anyway, if you've read this and don't think it's crap, r&r my other stuff please! I promise I'll not advertise my stories very much at all. !!!!!!!!!!!!! 


	3. Chapter 3

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 3  
  
A/N: This one was written while I am a teenage drunk. Hee, hee, hee. Happy New Year Everybody! Anyway, I'm sorry, but this chapter is not full of slashiness. It's mainly Dally being freaked out about it. Being gay I mean. Sorta, you gotta read it. But I promise there will be more. Slashiness I mean. Cause that's what's this is about. And for those who don't like slashiness.it's good news! Yay for everyone.  
  
P.S. It's kinda choppy and kinda a break through from writer's block. So I don't think it's that good.  
  
~  
  
The sun was shining as Dally left his apartment and walked down the street. The sidewalk was deserted - it was way too early on a Saturday morning for anyone to be up. Birds tweeted and shrieked nonstop but their noise didn't seem to bother Dally as he plodded down the street. He was feeling much more rested, and quite relaxed after his bath. He crossed the street and stepped into a quiet, slightly run-down, diner. The bells over the door tinkled a greeting, startling the only customers (two old men at the counter) out of their conversation. Dally waved at them - he'd never spoken to either but they were always there with their heads together as if plotting something, and he knew them by name. Ernie and Archie they were, and Dally liked them because they were obvious friends, they were loud and raucous in front of a crowd, they flirted shamelessly with the waitresses, and, after a few, they'd show anyone their old scars and (somewhat wrinkly) tattoos. They kinda reminded Dally of himself and Tim. His stomach tightened as he thought of Tim, and as Ernie waved back he cast a suspicious look at the two men, it suddenly occurring to him that they didn't seem to have any wives or kids, and were sitting awfully close to each other.  
  
"What can I getcha?" The waitress who took his order today was the pretty one, the one that Dally never failed to flirt with, but today he barely glanced at her.  
  
"Just a coffee," he said abruptly. He tapped his fingers against the counter, his eyes wandering around the dining room. The door tinkled again behind him, and the waitress brought him back his coffee with a quick smile and a chirpy, "There ya go!" He picked up his cup but the coffee missed his mouth and went sloshing down his front as someone violently grabbed his arm from behind.  
  
"What the fuck!" he yelled. He jumped up, letting the hot coffee trickle down his jeans and drip off the end of his T-shirt. He whirled around to find Angela Shepard gazing defiantly up at him.  
  
"What the hell do you want?" he demanded. His eyes flicked to the clock ticking on the wall of the diner. It was just barely 8 o'clock in the morning. "How come you're up so early?"  
  
Angela yawned, and sat down at the stool beside him. "Didn't go to sleep yet," she said. "Two more coffees," she told the waitress.  
  
Dally pulled off his leather jacket and wiped the coffee off his stool with the end of his soggy T-shirt. "Why'd you grab me?" he grumbled.  
  
Angela sat up straight. "Cause I wanna know something."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"What happened to you and Tim yesterday."  
  
Dally stopped breathing. "Why.why d'you wanna know?" he croaked.  
  
"Cause last night he didn't seem.normal after you left."  
  
Dally shrugged. He tried to look relaxed but his heart was thudding madly in his chest. "Nothing happened."  
  
The waitress came back with two cups of steaming coffee. Dally took his, giving the waitress a nod of thanks. Angela ignored her.  
  
"Nothing my ass," she said loudly, and old Archie shook his head at her. "Something happened. You pissed him off. What'd you do to him Dallas?"  
  
Dally gripped his mug tightly and said nothing.  
  
Angela picked up her cup and drained it quickly. "You're such a prick Dallas. What's your problem, huh? I oughtta kick your ass. Why the hell d'you gotta go bugging my brother like that? When Curly hears, you're gonna be sorry-"  
  
Dally stood up quickly, knocking over his stool. His second cup of coffee sailed across the counter. "Tim's the one who should be sorry," he spat. "I didn't do nothing! Tim's the one who did it. HE is the prick here! Why don't you ask your BROTHER what happened, huh?"  
  
Angela's mouth tightened. She stood up. "I'll tell Curly on you," she said hotly. "He'll get Tim and they'll beat you to a pulp!"  
  
"Go on and try it," Dally sneered.  
  
Angela tossed her long dark hair and narrowed her eyes. "Go to hell, Dallas Winston." She marched out, slamming the door, the bell tinkling like crazy.  
  
"Excuse me," said a voice coldly. The blond waitress elbowed her way past Dally. "Gotta clean this up." She shot Dally an annoyed look. He looked guiltily at the smashed cup. Pulling out a few crumpled bills, he paid for all three cups of coffee and left a dollar tip.  
  
"Sorry," he mumbled, sliding past her out the door.  
  
"Bye, bye Dallas!" called Ernie over the tinkling bells. Startled, Dally looked back through the glass doors. Both old men were laughing as if Ernie had just told the funniest joke. 


	4. Chapter 4

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 4  
  
A/N: Hey guys thanks for the happy reviews! (( They were so nice to read! Thanks a lot. Here's the next part.I know it's not slashy yet, but believe me, it will definitely get there. And soon. (Warning to slash haters, and slash lovers.well I hope I don't disappoint.)  
  
P.S. For quackquacki'maduck I just thought I'd clear a couple things up: First thanks for the nice review! Second, I didn't mean it to be Dally's first wet dream (sorry it kinda sounded like that in the story). I agree, he'd probably been having them for 6 years already or something. It was just his first about Tim specifically. And also about Ernie and Archie - I can't believe you caught that! That's exactly what I was planning on doing and been doing! I'm so glad it's noticeable! (About the whole Ernie being Dally thing and them being gay. It's soooo right!!) Thanks for the link!  
  
~  
  
"Dally!"  
  
"He's asleep."  
  
"Naw, his eyes are open. DALLAS!"  
  
"Huh?" Dally said stupidly. "What?"  
  
Two-Bit leaned over and slapped him on the side of the head. "Forget your brain today?"  
  
"I asked you, about 5 times, if you wanted to play football with us," Darry said calmly, stepping in before Dally could start anything with Two-Bit.  
  
"Didn't hear you," Dally said immediately.  
  
"He's a foot from your head," Steve said dryly. He was tossing the football with Sodapop, back and forth across the Curtis's front yard. He was looking extremely bored though, because in actuality, if he took one step towards Soda he could've handed him the football.  
  
"Something on your mind?" Soda asked, winging the football over Steve's head.  
  
"No. Nothing. Just tired. Woke up at 4 this morning." Dally rubbed his eyes. He wasn't lying - he was tired. But that wasn't what had been keeping him from hearing Darry. He'd been thinking about Tim - about how he could AVOID Tim. At the moment it didn't seem possible.  
  
"What the hell did you get up that early for?"  
  
Dally shrugged at Two-Bit. "Just woke up naturally."  
  
"Naturally? Even after last night.?" Soda froze in mid-throw, Steve snorted and Two-Bit raised an eyebrow. All eyes turned to Dally.  
  
His heart had skipped a beat and for one horrible second Dally thought that they had somehow found out what happened. Then he realised that the greaser was talking about his date with Sylvia.  
  
"Nothing happened. She wasn't my type," he said quickly. Steve snorted again and Two-Bit smirked.  
  
"Not your type? I thought anything with tits and a cunt was your type."  
  
"Steve," Darry said sternly, jerking his head at the spot where Ponyboy was sitting with Johnny.  
  
"Aw, Darry I've heard it all before," Pony protested. "Hell, I've heard YOU say most of those words."  
  
"Watch your mouth Ponyboy," Darry said, striding across the yard and taking the football from Sodapop. Ponyboy flipped off his brother's back, making Johnny laugh softly.  
  
"So you didn't sleep with her," Two-Bit said, bringing the conversation back around.  
  
"No," Dally said shortly. "I told you, she's not my type."  
  
"Bullshit," Steve yelled, then ducked as Darry aimed a soft punch at him. "You blew us off to date that little broad, so unless your date turned out to be a guy, you shoulda nailed her."  
  
Dally could have laughed or cried at the irony. His empty stomach was acting like he'd cleaned out a buffet table then gone drag racing. "I didn't blow you off," he said instead. "I'm going with yall tonight ain't I?"  
  
"Oh, Tim's comin'," Ponyboy said suddenly. "I saw Curly yesterday at school, and he said that Tim said he could come-"  
  
For the third time that day, several of Dally's vital organs stopped working.  
  
"What?" he croaked.  
  
"Is he meeting us there," Darry asked, absently twirling the football.  
  
"Yup."  
  
"No!"  
  
Dally found himself standing up, his hands balled into fists, and all his friends staring at him.  
  
"Why not?" Soda asked curiously. "Yall been fighting?"  
  
Dally swallowed. His mouth was dry. "Um."  
  
"So what. He's coming. Yall can kiss and make up at the movie-"  
  
Before he knew what he was doing, Dally had wrapped his fist in the front of Two-Bit's shirt and had hauled him to his feet.  
  
"Shut up," he hissed. "You don't know what you're talking about!"  
  
"Okay, okay, break it up. Dally, calm down." Darry hurried over to the tow headed greaser, pulling him quickly off of Two-Bit.  
  
"It was just a joke," Two-Bit said, looking surprised.  
  
"It wasn't funny," Dally snapped, shaking off Darry hand.  
  
"Take it out on the field," Darry growled, sounding for all the world like a gym teacher.  
  
"Yeah, see if y'all can beat us then," Soda chimed in, grinning at Darry. He sidled over and slung an arm around Dally's shoulder. "C'mon let's work out our battle plan."  
  
"You got no hope," Darry said, still looking a bit stern. "We'll cream you."  
  
And they did.  
  
~  
  
Evening fell, warmer than the night before. Thoroughly exhausted, the gang made their way in the soft twilight down to the Nightly Double, Two-Bit intoning a soft, barely-recognisable, tuneless rendition of "Happy Birthday". Dally didn't even have the energy to say shut-up. He was nearly hysterical inside, trying to figure out how to avoid Tim that night and coming up with nothing. He wasn't even exactly sure of what he was afraid of.  
  
They paid to get in that night - they were without a car, so it wasn't much, and the group was way too big to sneak in unnoticed. Plus several of them were still nursing the small aches and pains they'd gotten from that afternoon's football game.  
  
They trotted across the ground towards the seats, Dally's eyes flickering across the rows of plastic blue chairs, searching, searching for that familiar face in the crowd.  
  
Tim's leg was shaking - he had a severe case of the jitters. He had a sneaking suspicion that he shouldn't have gone to the drive-in that night. Dally was gonna have a fucking conniption. He was going to kill Tim, revive him, blow his head off with swear words and then kill him again. But of course he wouldn't, because he wouldn't want anyone else to know that it happened. Tim's mind was spinning in circles. What he should really do, he reasoned, was just tell Dally that he'd been drunk and it had all been a stupid mistake. Dally would be fine with that, and they could forget all about it - they'd never have to speak of it again. But even as he thought it, Tim knew he wouldn't do it. Tonight, he was going to go the other way, and do something real stupid, and really, really dangerous. Because, like Dallas, Tim always got what he wanted one way or another. And right now he wanted Dally.  
  
There. Right fucking there in the crowd. 200th heart attack in the past 2 days and his stomach seized up again. Dally looked down and concentrated hard on breathing. At this rate, he was going to die a very early death.  
  
"There's Tim. C'mon, let's go sit with him," Steve said eagerly. He was only hoping for news on any upcoming fight, Dally thought dully. Under normal circumstances he would have been right with Steve. A sudden anger against Tim flared up. All his fault things were awkward. All his fault Dally kept thinking people were calling him a fag. All his fault Dally was starting to wonder himself about that.  
  
"Hey," Tim said, nodding at him. His voice was steady. He looked calm and at ease. Like he didn't have a care in the world. 'Asshole,' Dally thought.  
  
Well two could play his game. Climbing the seats quickly, he sat down right next to Tim. He could clear a few things up about himself there. Things like how last night's dream had been an accident.  
  
He wasn't expecting the rest of the gang (except Steve) to choose seats two rows down.  
  
And halfway through the movie he wasn't expecting to feel Tim's hand lightly tough his shoulder.  
  
Heart pounding, he strained to feel the fingertips creeping down his leather-clad arm. The heat of Tim's hand permeated through his jacket, inching closer and closer to his own sweaty palm.  
  
'Okay,' he thought, taking a breath. Holding hands was nothing. He could deal with that. It would help him figure out which side he was batting for. His heart rate slowed; he unclenched his fist, readying himself. He was very surprised when Tim's hand slid past his and landed squarely in his lap. 


	5. Chapter 5

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 5  
  
A/N: Hello again you all! It's been ages since I last updated, but I plan to put a little recap on it when I do this wait-for-eternity thing again, as it is really not fair to have to read it all again. I've noticed that I am no longer the solitary slash writer - YAYAYAY! This is stupendous. Unfortunately, I'm not so accustomed to all things slashy so if anyone happens to know what YAOI means could you possibly tell me?  
  
P.S. It was very convenient that the whole gang sat away from Dally and Tim, but there was seriously a reason, which may be totally lamoid but I will write it in anyway.  
  
P.P.S. I always write Dally different from in the book (not as hard and stuff - lol! Get it? Sorry) but this time I'll try and change that a bit (but he has just turned 16 so he's gonna be less..experienced).  
  
To Recap: This is Tim/Dally. Tim kissed Dally on his 16th B-Day, and it's all awkward. The gang took Dally to a movie (drive-in of course - without a car) and they met Tim. Tim and Dally sat together and somehow Tim's hand ends up in Dally's lap. Thus:  
  
"Jesus Christ!" Dally yelped leaping up and tumbling down over the row of seats in front of him. He scrambled up over the gang, staring speechless at him, and dashed across the gravel, oblivious to the many, many eyes that followed his movements.  
  
"Told you we shouldn't have left them alone," Two-Bit said, giving Soda a look.  
  
"I thought they could work it out," Soda said sheepishly.  
  
"Work what out?" Tim gasped. 'How the hell did they find out?!' he thought furiously.  
  
"He said y'all were having a fight or something and he didn't want to see you tonight."  
  
"Bullshit. We ain't fighting," Tim said standing up quickly. "I'm gonna find him."  
  
A/N: Er..light slash now. Beware - both lovers (it might suck) and haters (it might not).  
  
Dally dashed behind the snack bar, hurrying into the men's room behind it. It was a dingy, one-room bathroom, with a solitary flickering light bulb hanging from a chain in the ceiling. There was a fat, sleek brown rat in one corner that gave Dally the evil eye, but the greaser didn't even see him.  
  
"Shit, shit, shit," he moaned, leaning against the really gross door. He stalked over to the sink and splashed a handful of cold water over his face, trying to cool down, and trying desperately to ignore the fact that his dick was hard.  
  
Someone knocked on the metal door, the noise bouncing off the walls and sounding like someone was ramming a tree trunk in to the building but Dally ignored it.  
  
"Goddamn him," he swore. He hadn't been expecting that. He would have never guessed in a million years that Tim would have the balls to put his hand in his lap. In public no less.  
  
He whirled and slammed his fist into the wall. Why the hell was he reacting like this? He could deal with people being gay. He had no problem with fags. None at all. He had no concept of right and wrong after all so why should he have a problem with them? He wasn't even like some people who could stand them as long as they didn't have to see them. He could work with them, he could even take it if someone from the gang was gay. No problem. But not him. Never him. Dallas Winston could not be gay. He had a big fucking problem with that idea.  
  
Someone knocked again, booming and intrusive and totally not fucking welcome.  
  
"Can't you wait for two goddamned minutes?" Dally shouted at the door. The handle turned swiftly and the door swung creakily open.  
  
"Shut up," Tim snapped. "The way you're acting everyone it this whole fucking drive-through is gonna hear you."  
  
Dally swore viciously. He rushed at Tim, his vision swimming, his fists pummeling at anything he could reach. But he was no match for Tim, he never was. Tim had him pinned in a second, his arms holding him tight, up against his body, the both of them pressed into the door.  
  
Then Tim's mouth was on his, hard and urgent and Dally was pressing back with as much strength as he had. Tim's hands fell to Dally's waist, pulling him up even closer, while Dally's lips crushed his, hungry and insistent and everything he wanted.  
  
Dally couldn't think anymore. He didn't want to have to think ever again. This was just so right, so good, just so perfect but if he thought about it for one second he'd be sick. So now he just closed his eyes and concentrated on the feeling of Tim's chest heaving under his, the spit- sticky warmth of his mouth.  
  
Tim wanted Dally like this now. He didn't think about the fact that once they were through he'd never give a damn about Dally again. Every time he wanted something, someone, he'd have them. And when he was done he had no use for them, and most of the time they didn't want him either. But he'd get what he wanted and that was all he was really thinking about when he shoved his hand down the back of Dally's jeans.  
  
No, Dally thought suddenly, feeling Tim going in for the kill. He couldn't do this, he couldn't take it. He knew how this worked and remembering made the sick rise in his throat and his body shudder. His mind was screaming at him to pull away and the next second Tim was staggering, blood dripping from his lips and he was crouched in the corner as far from Tim as he could get.  
  
Tim touched his bleeding mouth, surprise written on his face. "Goddamn Dallas-"  
  
"No." Dally's voice was shaking. "Don't you touch me. Don't you ever touch me."  
  
He'd never seen Dally like this, shaking and almost hysterical. Almost crying. He took a step forward. "I wasn't going to hurt you."  
  
Dally couldn't breathe. "Fuck you," he said and quit trembling. "You knew damn well what you were gonna do, and if that ain't hurting me then I dunno what is. Get out."  
  
"I wasn't-"  
  
"Get out!"  
  
"Fine." Tim didn't have to take this. He wiped the blood from his mouth, aware of the feeling that Dally still attracted him, crouching there like a scared child. "Fine."  
  
He turned and went out, leaving the door open, knowing that the lack of privacy could hurt Dally more than slamming the door would.  
  
A/N: Darn, I knew this would happen. Okay, it's not going to be totally angst, but I have a thing for putting in plots that deter from the sex having. Hopefully I'll get past that soon. 


	6. Chapter 6

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 6  
  
A/N: This chapter is very long. Just a warning. Mostly angst stuff too.  
  
Warning: This part contains a bit of objectionable material, and I don't mean the good stuff. No slash, but Dally.well, let's just say he's acting like himself.  
  
To Recap: This is the night of the day after Dally's 16th B-Day (on which he and Tim kissed, and Dally ran away). The gang went to the drive-in to celebrate, and met up with Tim. Tim's hand somehow landed in Dally's lap, which sent Dally running to the bathroom. Tim followed and a short make-out session ensued, which ended when Dally couldn't handle it and smacked Tim. Tim went off and Dally went back to the gang waiting at the drive in.  
  
"This movie bites my ass."  
  
"Shut up, Two-bit."  
  
If ever Dally needed a distraction from his life it was now. 'Thank god for stupid greasers,' he thought, dropping heavily into a seat beside Sodapop.  
  
"Hey, patch things up okay?" Soda asked, giving Dally a friendly smile.  
  
"None of your goddamn business," Dally growled. Soda shrugged and went back to the movie. Even he got used to the way Dally's anger. It didn't mean anything anymore, it was just the way he was.  
  
"Where's Tim?" Steve asked suddenly. He leaned over Dally's chair. "Did he leave already?"  
  
Dally shrugged. "Why are you asking me?" he said, his eyes fixed stubbornly on the drive-in screen. "I ain't his keeper."  
  
Steve sat back. "He went looking for you."  
  
"Didn't see him." Dally licked his lips and tried to focus on the movie.  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
He could feel Steve's eyes on him. Someone's gaze shouldn't be so powerful. He could feel little pinpricks of fire where Steve's eyes were fixed on the corner of his shoulder. Steve's eyes could burn through space. They could burn through his body and his mind and through time. He ignored Steve's question.  
  
The movie played a song. It was catchy and upbeat, the girls with smiling dimpled faces listening to short-haired boys in khakis and sweaters singing songs about dancing and beach parties. It was a stupid movie and full of Socs Dally was just realising.  
  
From Soda's other side Two-Bit yawned loudly. "Come on Dallas. This ain't no way to celebrate a birthday." Two-Bit stood up, stretching. "Let's go hunt some action. Whaddaya say?" He grinned. "Check out the Dingo, maybe Buck's, get something to drink or, or something."  
  
Or girls. Dally could read the message in Two-Bit's wickedly dancing eyes and in his lecherous grins. Let's go fucking.  
  
"Yeah," he said loudly, standing up fast. "Yeah, let's go."  
  
Soda looked up quickly at Dally. There was a hunger in the older boy's eyes, a kind of dangerousness that Soda had seen before a fight, or when he talked about Socs.  
  
"You go then," Darry spoke up. "We'll stay here."  
  
"Aw, c'mon Darrel. Have fun for once," Two-Bit said.  
  
Darry rolled his eyes. "Can't. I'm baby-sittin' again tonight remember? Dad would skin me alive if I let Pony or Soda anywhere near what y'all are thinking about doing."  
  
"Darry," Soda groaned, mortified. "C'mon I'm old enough to go."  
  
"You're 15 Sodapop," Darry said sternly.  
  
"So? Dally was 15 two days ago, and I'll be 16 in less that 2 months-"  
  
"Well then Dally shouldn't be goin' either."  
  
Dallas gave the older man a dangerous glare.  
  
"You're such a square Darrel," Two-Bit said, playfully punching him on the shoulder. "'Sides I don't think Dally was ever too young for this shit."  
  
"Damn straight," Dally growled.  
  
"I'm going," Steve chimed in.  
  
"You're 16 too! Soda's still 15 and he's still my kid brother, so he's not going!"  
  
Soda smiled slyly. "C'mon Darry. I know you weren't such a saint when you were 15."  
  
Darry went red. "Fine," he threw up his hands. "Go then. But you make your own excuses to Mom and Dad."  
  
Soda grinned triumphantly. "No problem. Thanks Darry!"  
  
The Dingo was dark and smelly and smoky, and within 5 minutes Steve picked a fight with some dumb hood so they left. Buck's was somewhat cleaner, though just as dark and nearly as smoky. Couples crawled across the dance floor, moving with a sexual energy that would have put an orgy to shame. Dally pushed his way through the crowd to the kitchen in the back. The beer was there, along with all the pretty girls who weren't already blowing someone else. On this night, there was lots of both going around.  
  
"Dallas!" Buck shouted over the music, grinning buck-toothedly at the blond youth. "How ya doin?"  
  
"Alright," Dally replied absently. He was busy, scanning the room for any girl that caught his eye. "Had a birthday yesterday."  
  
"No kiddin. How old are ya now?"  
  
"16."  
  
Buck spat out his beer, and leapt up, tossing off the drunk broad seated in his lap. "No shit! I thought you was at least turned 19."  
  
Dally shrugged, though inwardly he felt pleased. He liked to think he looked older, and tougher than he really was. "Listen you got a room open?"  
  
Buck eyed the greaser. He didn't usually cater to kids (though Dallas had never acted much like a kid). He couldn't work it out if Dally was pulling his leg about being 16. But then again, the cops might not even show up (they rarely did this side of town), and Dally was prone to hitting hard if someone bugged him.  
  
"Yeah, I got a room. But ya gotta find your own broad man." Buck giggled at his own "wit", and, all thought flitting from his mind like a kleenex in the breeze, he grabbed another beer and his dame and settled down to do what he did best.  
  
"Jeez man, can't even wait a minute?" Two-Bit shoved Dally's shoulder from behind.  
  
"Well it's not like you're comin' in the bedroom with me," Dally replied rolling his eyes.  
  
Two-Bit did a double take. "You sure move fast Dallas," he chuckled to himself. "Man, you crazy 16 year olds..already lost Stevie to some little chick that offered him a smoke, and Soda was taken by a pact of girls-"  
  
"Soda's 15 and you ain't 18 even so shut yer trap and go get laid," Dally said, eager to shake the greaser and get on with what he'd gone there for. He grabbed a bear and threaded his way through the growing crowd, eyes open for a chick his age. Old Buck had mostly of college age girls there, what were okay with the drinking age, but Dally knew without a shadow of a doubt that there were girls as young as 13 there. Angela for one, he noted, spotting her on the lap of some greaser. He'd have to remember to tell Tim about that, he thought, a roguish grin flashing across his face. Get her back for that lecture she gave him.. then he was almost sick remembering what the lecture was about in the first place.  
  
Dally physically shook himself trying to rid his mind of everything to do with..him.  
  
"Watch it buddy!" a female voice behind him exclaimed.  
  
Dally turned around, hell bent on slapping that bitchy mouth. The familiar hard grey eyes framed by yellow hair and carefully arched dark eyebrows glowered up at him. Dally felt his breath catch. This was it.  
  
"Sylvia." He let his mouth curve into an easy smile. "Well, well. Given any thought to that offer I made ya yesterday?"  
  
She was drunker than he thought, and it wasn't long until he was being pulled to the bedrooms. 'So she's easy after all,' he thought smirking to himself.  
  
Two-Bit groaned, wiping his face of the beer the last broad had dumped on him. The girls were getting' mighty pushy these days, what with women's lib coming out and all. Not that he was entirely against it, he thought with a grin, he liked his women tough.  
  
"An' here comes the toughest of them all," he murmured to himself. "Hey, Angela. Ain't you a bit young for this scene."  
  
Angela glowered at him, then let her dark red lips twist into a sarcastic smirk. "Well, if it ain't my favourite greaser, Idiot Matthews."  
  
Two-Bit leaned over the counter, eyeing the young girl. "Where's your date Angel? Get ditched?" he teased. Behind her lay a boy around his age, passed out on the floor from drink.  
  
Angela cast a contemptuous look over her shoulder. "Not good enough for me anyway," she said scornfully.  
  
"So what's new with you," Two-Bit said, cracking open another beer.  
  
"Dally's an asshole," Angela said flatly.  
  
Two-Bit laughed out loud. "Yeah, I heard that one before. But usually from girls he'd laid, or," he winked, "should I say girls he's tried to lay." Angela rolled her eyes but gave the greaser a laugh anyway. "So what did blondie do to you?"  
  
"Better not let him catch you calling him that," Angela said, smirking. "And he didn't do nothing to me. He's been buggin' Tim out like I ain't never seen before."  
  
Two-Bit cocked an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? He did that tonight I think. Stormed out on a conversation they were having. Tim went lookin' for him, and didn't come back."  
  
Angela's eyes narrowed. "What's his problem anyway. I thought they were friends and he's acting so...mean."  
  
Two-Bit laughed. "Doll, he is mean. And maybe Tim broke his heart. Seems to be a thing your family does." He let his eyes wander over Angela's body. "Yup, major heart-breakers you Shepards."  
  
Angela ignored his look. "You think this is over a girl?" she said thoughtfully.  
  
Two-Bit shrugged. "What do you care?"  
  
"Normally I wouldn't but..." Angela hesitated. There was just something about the way Tim was acting. "You're probably right," she murmured.  
  
Two-Bit reached forward, fingering Angela's curls. "Baby, I'm always right," he replied wickedly.  
  
Angela looked over at the greaser, shoving Tim from her mind. She'd been with drunker and stupider greaser's before, and Two-Bit was almost cute when he was smashed. Besides one night...  
  
"So," she said, tossing her hair, and flashing her flawless smile. "What's up..with you?"  
  
"Dallymmmm," Sylvia grabbed the greaser around the waist, burrowing her face into his chest. Dally winced. She was hot, she was drunk, she was willing to do anything, but he wasn't even hard.  
  
"Goddamn," he whispered, clenching his teeth. He ground his hips against her almost desperately, breathing in the flowery scent of her hair....nothing. "Goddamn," he half choked on the word.  
  
"Mmmmm," Sylvia replied, oblivious to his state. "C'mon get these off," she teased, tugging at his jeans.  
  
Dally stared at her helplessly. He could only hide behind his pants for so long. He felt her fingernails gently scrapping against his skin under the edge of his jeans, and finally, something..  
  
He leaned down, kissing her deeply. There was a tiny fire burning up in him, starting where her fingers met his stomach. She moved slightly, letting her hand slide towards his back and he almost lost it.  
  
"No," he said hoarsely, grabbing her hand and shoving it back down the front of his jeans.  
  
"Ahh," Sylvia gasped, then giggled. "In a hurry aren't ya-"  
  
He kissed her, hard, almost roughly. Then again, trying to bring to flame the tiny flicker of interest. His hands gripped her arms tightly - he could feel her moving underneath him, and that almost turned him on. He kissed her harder, and then bit her lip gently. So close..  
  
"Hey, take it easy," Sylvia gasped, still in her giggly, high, breathy, girlish voice. 'Shut up,' Dally thought, gritting his teeth. He pressed himself down against her, kissing her face, licking her, almost dog-like.  
  
Sylvia laughed, tinkly and breathy. "Ooh Dally, you're such an animal."  
  
'Shut up!' he thought wildly. He pressed his lips against hers quickly, trying to smother that girlish whine. He bit her again, and this time it wasn't gentle. This time her arms jerked in his iron grip. This time he tasted blood.  
  
"Dallyyy," she whined, twisting away from his bruising mouth. "That hurts.."  
  
He pulled her closer, kissing her neck when she pulled her mouth away. His fingers were almost numb he was holding her so hard. The flame was leaping up in him now. He'd have to get his pants off soon, he thought, before he lost it again.  
  
"Dallas.." Sylvia's hand slipped again, pulling out of his pants to press against his chest.  
  
"No!" he grabbed desperately for her hand, but the fire inside him was already flickering, dying. "GODDAMN IT!" he pulled at his jeans, snapping the button off, ripping through the zipper. Sylvia wiggled against him, and her movement spurred him on. He kissed her, quick and hard on the side of her neck. He needed that touch.  
  
He gripped her hand tight. "Get off," she gasped. She wasn't just moving anymore. She was struggling against his body, her legs kicking out underneath his. Sylvia's eyes were wide, and she wasn't speaking in that breathy voice anymore. "Get off Dallas," she pleaded softly.  
  
He pulled back, just long enough to see her scared, just long enough to see how hard he was holding her. He knew that look, that pleading, terrified look and it sickened him to think that he caused it. He swore softly, turning away, pretending he didn't know what he'd almost done. He'd never do that, he'd kill himself first...  
  
He rolled off her quickly. "I'm sorry, " he gasped. "I..I..haven't got a condom. I gotta go," he bolted out of the room, grabbing his leather jacket only by reflex, leaving his shirt and socks and shoes, not daring to look back. 


	7. Chapter 7

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 7  
  
A/N: I would just like to say that I don't condone Dally's behaviour with Sylvia, but it made sense to me for him. Anyway, here's the next part.  
  
To recap: This is the night of the day after Dally's 16th B-Day (on which he and Tim kissed, and Dally ran away). The gang went to the drive-in to celebrate, and met up with Tim. Tim's hand somehow landed in Dally's lap, which sent Dally running to the bathroom. Tim followed and a short make-out session ensued, which ended when Dally couldn't handle it and smacked Tim. Tim went off and Dally went back to the gang waiting at the drive in. Dally, Soda, Steve and Two-Bit went to a party at Buck's, where Steve and Soda were swallowed whole by girls, Dally went to the bedrooms with Sylvia and scared her and himself by acting too rough in bed (trying to like girls), and Two-Bit met up with Angela.  
  
P.S. HUGE FUCKING CHAPTER AHEAD! Dally loosens up a little, so watch yourselves. (Not much though.) But there's some background shit.  
  
P.P.S. Decided that there will be fluff and stuff, and Dally's had a majorly angst filled life. So if you're in the mood for that read on.  
  
"Mmm," Angela murmured, stroking Two-Bit's hair. He was in less of a hurry than she'd expected, and it was nice to move at her own pace for a change. She let her eyes wander lazily around the smoky room, catching glimpses of couples like hers seated on couches, through the mass of slow swaying dancers. The bass was turned up so loud that the music was little more than a throbbing heartbeat in the background. It was so still...  
  
Angela jerked up hearing from somewhere above a piercing cry.  
  
"Dallas!"  
  
Two-Bit pulled up immediately from where he'd been trying to undo Angela's bra. "Jesus," he swore. "Ruin the party for everyone why don'tcha."  
  
Angela rolled her eyes, agreeing totally with Two-Bit. Dally was nothing but trouble.  
  
The next minute he was racing down the stairs, blond hair flying, shirtless and shoeless and tripping over everyone and everything.  
  
"Be right back," Two-Bit murmured, hefting himself up from the couch. Quick as a cat, her leapt over the kids sprawled on the floor and caught Dally by the shoulders as he flew by.  
  
"Dallas, what..." He caught a flash of fear in Dally's cold blue eyes and then he was staggering backwards, his jaw smarting and blood filling his mouth.  
  
"Don't..." Dally gasped, then turned and bolted out of the house.  
  
Angela appeared at his side, tugging at Two-Bit's worn shirt. "You okay?"  
  
Two-Bit nodded, rubbing his jaw gently.  
  
Angela cocked her head in the direction Dally had fled in. "Told you he was trouble," she said angrily. "I oughtta...I'm gonna tell Tim. I'll tell him to stop puttin' up with Dally's crap. He can punch Dally out for ya," she added eagerly.  
  
Two-Bit shook hi head. "I can take care of myself," he growled.  
  
Angela tossed her hair. "I still wanna tell him."  
  
"I'll go with ya," Two-Bit paused, "if you'll grab a bite with me first."  
  
Angela sighed impatiently. "Fine, but you're buying."  
  
"Fine," Two-Bit agreed, grinning. She was the hottest date he'd had in awhile. There was only one small flaw in her looks. "Hey Angel," he said lazily. "Ever think of dying your hair blond?"  
  
Dally gasped in the night air, lungs burning. His face was red hot, and every step he took sent a piercing pain shooting up his legs. But he didn't stop; he was wracked by the absurd idea that he didn't deserve to rest.  
  
His mind caught up with him finally when he was at the door.  
  
"Shit," he moaned, sliding down onto doorstep. The concrete was cool and solid, and the dark night around him began to calm him pulse. Gradually Sylvia's face began to disappear from him mind. He hadn't actually done it, he thought to himself. As long as she didn't end up with a black eye or something...he could barely remember what he'd been doing in that bed.  
  
He burrowed his head in his arms and tried to breathe more slowly. The same scent he'd been breathing in for years trailed through his nose - half- dried grass, dandelions and gasoline. The smell of Tulsa. Or at least the side of Tulsa he lived in. He vaguely remembered something about fresh cut grass and some flowery scent from the other side - real flowers too, not the gag-me fake smell Sylvia had been wearing.  
  
Dally almost cringed even thinking her name. Hard Dally Winston, been in the slammer for everything from here to high heaven. Well, almost everything. Murder, no, but there was still plenty of time for that. But there was something, he thought, was worse than killing someone, something he could never remember considering, something he hadn't gotten close to actually doing until tonight: rape.  
  
The gate creaked open and Dally almost jumped out of his skin. He looked up but he could see little more than a shadow in the dim light. He squinted at the figure as it paused, peering back at him.  
  
"Dally?"  
  
Tim moved forward until he could clearly see Dally's face. He took in the scared look in his wide blue eyes, the absence of his shirt and shoes and shook his head slowly. "What the hell are you doing here?"  
  
He didn't sound angry at least, but he did sound surprised. 'So this is where I ended up,' Dally thought mildly. He wasn't nearly as surprised as he should have been. His feet knew the way to Tim's better than his brain anyway.  
  
Tim shifted uncomfortably. Dally still wasn't saying anything, but then again, that meant that he wasn't cussing him out, and he wasn't throwing any punches.  
  
"You want to come in?"  
  
Dally nodded slowly. He followed Tim in through the unlocked door and through the dark empty hallway. He could hear Tim's parents cussing each other in the back somewhere, but he was used to it. Tim lead him quick up the stairs and into his bedroom. He closed the door, but didn't lock it - he couldn't remember the last time his parents had come into his room anyway.  
  
"What's going on," Tim said flatly. Dally was at his usual station, sitting with his knees up on Tim's bed by the window, and normally Tim would be half sprawled across the other end of the bed, but tonight he was standing, far on the other side of the room.  
  
Dally looked at him. "Tim," he said so quietly that the greaser had to move closer. "Just for a minute, can we pretend we're cool?"  
  
Tim shrugged. He didn't think they weren't, but Dally had always been hung up about stuff that had happened in the past long after other people had forgotten about it. He took everything so seriously.  
  
Tim moved slowly to his end of the bed, and sat down stiffly. He didn't want to scare the greaser away. "What's going on," he repeated.  
  
Dally looked at him, so seriously, his usually hard eyes full of repent. "I think...I think I hurt someone."  
  
Tim stared back at him, waiting for something, anything that would justify this statement of regret.  
  
"Who?" he said finally.  
  
"Sylvia."  
  
Tim nodded, and waited. And waited. "And?"  
  
Dally looked somewhat taken aback. "I mean, not just like, hitting her or something. I think I...well I almost..."  
  
"For Christ's sake Dallas, you come here looking like you've just blown up a building by accident and you tell me you've only ALMOST hurt Sylvia? What the hell could you have done that ALMOST hurt her?"  
  
"I think I almost...had sex with her," Dally said weakly.  
  
"Jesus...is that all?"  
  
"I don't think she wanted to."  
  
"Did you force her into the bedroom?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Did you make her take off her clothes?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Did you make her get into bed with you?"  
  
"No, but she told me to get off."  
  
"And did you?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Tim took a deep breath. "So let me get this straight. You went into a bedroom with a girl, got into bed with her, ALMOST had sex with her, and left when she asked you to."  
  
"I think I scared her though."  
  
Tim put his head down in his hands. He wanted to scream and laugh at the same time. "You naïve little shit," he said through clenched teeth. "You scare broads by walking down the same street as them."  
  
Dally was silent for awhile. "But I think she thought I would ra...pe her," he said quietly.  
  
"But you didn't."  
  
"I know but-"  
  
"You didn't." Tim stood up and leaned over Dally, gripping his arms in his. "Dally you didn't. You got up and left. Probably ran right out judging from your looks. You're a goddamned saint already. Oh, for pity's sake stop looking like you're gonna cry. She'll be fine, you didn't do anything-"  
  
Tim was silenced as Dally's lips covered his own. The kiss was soft and slow, different from the quick drunken peck he'd given Dally before, lacking the passion of their bathroom make-out. Still, it was the first time Dally had really started it, the first time he felt like the blond greaser really, really wanted him....  
  
Dally pulled back, breathing hard. He looked shocked.  
  
Tim smiled. "A simple thank-you would have been tuff." Dally turned away, pulling at Tim's hands but he was held fast.  
  
"No," Tim said firmly. "Every time I kiss you, you run away. Well, this time you kissed me, so you ain't goin anywhere."  
  
"Let me go," Dally said. Tim didn't. He leaned forward and kissed him again, the same slow soft kiss as before. He waited until Dally was kissing him back and then let go, expecting the greaser to pull away or punch him.  
  
Dally closed his eyes, letting his arms go around Tim's shoulders. He had no energy left to fight this, no thought in his head to scream at him that this was wrong, that he of all people should know that.  
  
Tim shifted his weight onto the bed, between Dally's legs. Dally pulled himself closer wrapping one of his legs around Tim's. He didn't have to try to be turned on by this. He didn't think he could have suppressed it if he'd wanted to. It felt so much better than with any girl. For once, he didn't have to worry about being the one holding someone else.  
  
Tim pulled Dally up closer, as gentle as he could be. Dally wasn't running, wasn't resisting at all, but he still didn't want to scare him away. He could feel Dally's arousal against him though, so slowly, he let his hand press against the younger boy's thigh.  
  
Dally's body jerked slightly. He wasn't sure if it was out of fear or want but he didn't think he could handle Tim's hand anywhere near that region yet. He stopped kissing Tim and squirmed out of his grasp.  
  
Tim let go instantly and backed up, holding his hands up as if Dally had a gun. "Whoa, kid I ain't gonna hurt ya."  
  
Dally quit being scared for a minute, feeling just plain irritated that, even after what had just happened Tim still thought of him as a kid.  
  
"I ain't scared of you," he growled.  
  
"Well you were before," Tim said impatiently. "And you just pushed me off you for no reason. I mean, it ain't like you weren't enjoying it." He motioned lewdly at the obvious bulge in Dally's jeans.  
  
Dally sat up quick, feeling the blush spread across his cheeks. "Shut up," he said violently.  
  
Tim laughed maddeningly. "C'mon," he teased, sliding a hand up Dally's leg. "You know you want it."  
  
Dally pushed him away, his face red hot. "Look I just - I can't - you-"  
  
"Hey what happened?" Tim said, his tone changing suddenly. He was still looking at the front of Dally's jeans. Dally glared at him.  
  
"Don't be stupid."  
  
"No, I mean to your jeans." Tim leaned forward, reaching across Dally's lap. The greaser stiffened, but Tim only fingered the top of Dally's jeans where the zipper was broken.  
  
"I broke it. By accident. With Sylvia." Tim winced, wishing he hadn't brought it up. He'd just killed the mood.  
  
"I thought we went over this already," he said sighing. "I thought we were moving on to better things." He let his fingers trail down the edges of the broken zipper. He hadn't gone far before Dally's hands stopped him.  
  
"Tim," he said almost desperately. Dally leaned back against the pillow his eyes closed. "Look," he said softly. "I don't mind...so much...when you kiss me. No, I do. And I really - I just - can't take anything else. It feels gross and...it's just wrong."  
  
"Why."  
  
Dally shook his head helplessly. "I - it was...I just can't."  
  
Tim sighed turning away, feeling so frustrated he just wanted to punch something. Or someone.  
  
"Tim..."  
  
Tim shook his head. He didn't want anymore of Dally's half-excuses.  
  
"Tim look-"  
  
"Why only you Dally. And why only with ME." It was Dally's own problem. His own hang ups. But why did he have to be so stubborn about himself?  
  
Dally opened his eyes, looking up at Tim's back. He wanted to explain. "Tim."  
  
"No." Dally was breathing hard, but Tim could hardly hear him he was so frustrated. It was only when he was with Tim that someone being gay bothered Dally so much. Tim was sick of it.  
  
"It's just - jail..."  
  
Tim choked on nothing and whirled around. "Jail?" he gasped. Suddenly it all made sense, Dally freaking out whenever he touched him, his disgust, his obsession with almost hurting Sylvia. Tim closed his eyes, rubbing his temples. He'd heard stories - Lord how he'd heard stories - about what went on in jail. They'd scared the hell outta him until he'd actually got arrested, and then found out that if you were big enough, scary enough, and in a real gang the other guys left you alone.  
  
But Dally had been only 10 the first time he'd been arrested, and in a New York jail who knew what other guys, other criminals cooped up for months, years...who knew what they would do.  
  
"Shit," he said finally. He couldn't think of anything else to say. He didn't want to be involved in this. But goddamn it, it wasn't even that he wanted Dally anymore. They were friends. He would have said they were best friends if the term didn't make him feel like a 12 year old girl. He was involved this time, because he wouldn't just let Dally be alone.  
  
Dally didn't look scared at all now, he didn't look embarrassed. He looked the way that Tim always thought of him looking - hard, tough, cool. Like there was nothing in the world that would bother him. He look at Tim with eyes made of grey stone. Not a hint of feeling.  
  
That look could scare the hell out of Tim sometimes. Not now. "Dallas," he said firmly. "I ain't gonna hurt you. I'm not some stupid fag cooped up in jail who gets off gang-bangin' 10 year old kids."  
  
Dally flinched and looked away.  
  
"I ain't gonna fuck you," Tim said, quick to get it all out before Dally started crying or something. "Not until you want it."  
  
Dally laughed coldly and turned around. "What the hell makes you think I ever will." He was trying his hardest to look tough now. But his voice was thin, whispery and shaking and he felt like Tim could see right through him.  
  
Tim smiled tightly. "You will. I'm not going to hurt you," he repeated, "and I'm not gonna let anyone else hurt you like that. I might smack you around if you pop my tires though."  
  
Dally sat up. "I don't care Tim."  
  
"I won't-"  
  
"Hurt me. I know. You've said it 10 times at least."  
  
Tim was quiet. "So I can kiss you then."  
  
"Maybe. But don't touch me."  
  
"Until you want it."  
  
"I won't ever."  
  
Tim smirked. He leaned over, brushing Dally's lips with his. "You will," he whispered, and kissed him again. 


	8. Chapter 8

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 8  
  
"Slow down girl, Tim ain't gonna run town," Two-Bit huffed as he hurried to keep up with Angela's quick stride.  
  
Angela glanced quickly up and down the street before walking swiftly to the other sidewalk. "I want to get there to see if he's home or not. If he ain't, then if we hurry there'll still be another movie to catch."  
  
"Aw, them late movies suck anyway." Two-Bit slowed his pace and lit a cigarette as the Shepard house came into view.  
  
"C'mon, we'll only be a few minutes to tell Tim to go figure it out with Dallas," Angela said impatiently. 'And whack him a couple times while he's at it,' she added silently.  
  
Two-Bit felt the slow burn of anger, reminding him that he owed Dally a punch or two. "Okay," he said speeding back up.  
  
"So. You're...not doin' too good then," Tim said haltingly. He was stretched out on his side on the bed, looking up at Dally who was sitting, tense and tight as a cat, staring into his lap.  
  
"I'm doing fine. Never better," Dally replied serenely. On the surface, he looked no different then usual, except for the slight glow that was remnant of their kiss. But his hands were clenched tight in his lap, and his eyes were blazing with confusion and a tumult of repressed hurt.  
  
"You...wanna talk about it?" Tim said gently. He could have kicked himself when Dally snorted.  
  
"There ain't nothing to talk about," he said stonily.  
  
Tim nodded absently, trying desperately to think up something to say. He had the feeling that Dally was slipping away from him, and if he didn't act quickly to bring him out of it, they'd end up back where they started.  
  
"I just."  
  
A miracle lay in those two words. Tim's eyes snapped up, but he didn't move, afraid to break the tenuous bond that had suddenly appeared between the two.  
  
Dally stared helplessly down at his fists. He shouldn't have said anything, he thought to himself. He could have dealt with it himself. He was suddenly angry. Angry at the prison guards who thought if would be a laugh to teach a rebellious ten-year-old kid a lesson. Angry at the men who used him like a tool for their own pleasure and left him broken and unable to mend himself. Mad at himself for being so stupid, and furious with Tim for being so goddamned pushy. He could kill Tim. He wanted to punch him, to throw him out of town. He wanted the earth to open up and swallow Tim whole, for the man to just...cease to exist. But every time he looked at Tim, he couldn't bring himself to lay a finger him.  
  
"I just."  
  
Don't want to feel like this. Every time he looked at Tim, he felt his face get hot and he wanted to throw himself off the face of the earth instead. He wanted to cry and would have killed himself if he did. He hands clenched and unclenched in his lap as over him like fire fell wave after wave of the same emotion that had drenched him since he could remember: humiliation.  
  
"Be quiet when you go in," Angela murmured. She opened the door and slid noiselessly into the hallway. Her parents were arguing, but it was a soft arguing - more "it's your fault" and "you did it" than throwing vases.  
  
Two-Bit crept in after her. He knew enough about greaser lifestyles to know that when parents were arguing they generally did not want to see a strange kid in their house. Hell, no one would. He followed Angela as the pair made their way silently down the hallway and past the low-lit room where her parents bickered. Trying to be quiet slowed them down - it took almost ten minutes just to make it to the hardest part - the stairs.  
  
Tim shifted closer to Dally. The blond had stopped short after those two words, refusing to continue, even when Tim had quietly inquired on his meaning. But he wasn't running away.  
  
Dally relaxed slowly, slumping down on the bed. He was too tired to think about it anymore. He felt Tim move closer until he was half sitting up against him. Tim's arm went around his shoulders, pulling him closer, his intentions clear. Dally didn't resist. It may have been only a day or two since their first kiss but he was getting more comfortable with the idea all the time. Tim's lips met his softly, his hand moving up to tangle gently in his hair.  
  
"Mmmm," Dally said softly against his lips. Tim backed away in surprise. He knew Dally was a vocal person, but somehow he'd thought it would be awhile before he'd ever hear the tow-headed teen moan.  
  
Dally leaned forward, capturing Tim's mouth in a deeper kiss. Tim pushed back harder, and gently ran his tongue across Dally's teeth. To his greater surprise the blond laughed. Tim lifted an eyebrow, happy at the lighter mood but wondering what the hell was so funny that would make Dally laugh at a time like this.  
  
Dally grinned. "Pushy ain't ya," he murmured.  
  
Tim grinned back at him. "C'mere, lemme do it again," he said wickedly. "Bet I can make that 'Mmmm' sound outta you again." Dally laughed again, nervously this time. He wasn't used to that kind of talk coming from a man.  
  
They kissed again, lost in their private soft-core paradise. The noises of motorcycles, of Tim's parents fighting, of the creaking old house fell away. Nothing could bother them now.  
  
Well, almost.  
  
"AhhhhHHAHHHH!!!!"  
  
In what was the most terrifying experience of his life, Tim Shepard looked over the shoulder of his soon-to-be-boyfriend, and looked straight into the horrified eyes of his little sister. 


	9. Chapter 9

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 9  
  
A/N: Dun, dun, dun!!!! Slashy-ness in this chapter. Be warned. It gets hot for about two seconds though, so not too scary.  
  
Angela almost pissed herself when she sneaked into Tim's room to find her brother locked in what looked like a passionate kiss with another male.  
  
"What the hell?!?!"  
  
Dally didn't even have to look up, he just reacted. He pushed away from Tim and flipped over, off the bed. He scrambled to his knees, trying to avoid Angela's horrified stare.  
  
"Jesus motherfucking Christ!" Two-Bit gasped, staring over the top of Angela's head. "Never thought in a million years-"  
  
Dally groaned softly hearing Two-Bit's voice. He was dead. It was over. His life was over. He may as well keel over and die. He was stupid, stupid, stupid and now it was all coming back to haunt him.  
  
"What...what were you doing," Angela said her voice shaking. Her eyes fastened on her brother who, like Dally, refused to look at her. "What the hell were you doing!" she demanded. No way...not Tim, not this brother. Tim was always the strong, cool, tuff one. Curly, she might have suspected, he was always doing things that would tick people off. But not Tim. She'd never have thought.  
  
"Damnit, ain't it obvious," Tim said quietly. He hadn't moved. He couldn't.  
  
Two-Bit stepped into the room, quietly shutting the door behind him. Whatever happened, he knew instinctively that it shouldn't be heard outside of the room.  
  
"Tim," Angela said weakly. Two-Bit gripped her arm tightly, supporting her. He was afraid she might faint dead away she looked so shocked.  
  
"Don't touch my sister," Tim said swiftly. Two-Bit looked up.  
  
"Better than what you've been touchin'," he said.  
  
Angela shook out of his grasp. "Don't talk to my brother that way," she whispered, her eyes sliding to where Dallas was on his knees, his face buried in his hands. She suddenly felt sorry for him.  
  
Dally had stopped breathing, his heart pounding. He strained to hear past all the blood rushing in his ears, but he couldn't make out anything past the fact that they'd been caught by Tim's sister. 'At least it wasn't Curly,' he thought in a moment of clarity.  
  
"I...Tim I don't know what to say," Angela said at last.  
  
"Then don't say anything. It'd be a first," Tim said harshly. "Look this don't have nothing to do with you. And you could have knocked first."  
  
Angela was speechless. "You don't have to get all mad," she said, hurt. Tim looked away. For awhile no one spoke.  
  
Two-Bit crossed his arms over his chest. "Well," he said finally, after a very long moment of silence, "is that it?"  
  
Angela stared at him in surprise. "What?"  
  
"Is that it." Two-Bit repeated. "I mean, can we go? I thought we were gonna see a movie."  
  
"How can you even think about going to a movie now?!" Angela raged, staring at the greaser in disbelief.  
  
Two-Bit rolled his eyes. "Well, you caught them kissin', we figured out what's been goin' on with both of them, and it looks like Tim's already found Dallas, so what else is there to do here?"  
  
Angela was speechless. She knew the greaser was laid-back but they'd just caught her brother and his very male friend kissing. There was more weight to the subject than what he was giving it credit for.  
  
Two-Bit jerked his head at Dallas. "Look, I'm pretty sure Dally's gonna die over there-"  
  
"No I ain't. Look, I can explain-"  
  
Two-Bit shrugged. "Whatever man, kiss who you wanna kiss, not my problem. Just don't come on to me and we're cool."  
  
"We're...cool?" Now it was Dally's turn to stare at the greaser.  
  
"Yeah, it's not like that's the first time I'd seen it," Two-Bit said uncomfortably. "I mean, I'd never have thought you and Shepard...but, I can't say I care all that much. More blondes for me." He grinned.  
  
"But, you said before, it was bad me touching Dallas," Tim said, confused.  
  
Two-Bit smirked. "Well, he's still trash. Not much taste you have Shepard. And you ain't that bad looking even. Coulda gone for Sodapop or even Darry if you wanted."  
  
"Who and who?"  
  
"Curtises. The strong football one and the pretty-boy flirt that works at the DX," Dally said quietly. He glanced up at Tim. Two-Bit was right in that respect, Tim was handsome, strong looking and rugged. If he really was gay, he should have been going after someone that was actually appealing. Dally reached up a hand, self-consciously brushing back his hair.  
  
Tim shook his head. "It's not like that. I'm no fag, it's just this one time."  
  
Two-Bit cocked an eyebrow. "Sure."  
  
Tim looked at him, but had to hide a grin. "You callin' me a fag Matthews?"  
  
Two-Bit grinned wickedly. "Your word not mine. I'd call you a - a home-a- sexual guy."  
  
"Shut up!" Angela said angrily. "Both of you! How can you joke about something like this?'  
  
"Cause it's not that big a deal," Two-Bit said simply. "Look Angel, guys do that, okay? It's just a thing-"  
  
"You're gay too!" Angela whirled around. "All of you! You're all gay. Why the hell-"  
  
"Because we met girls," Dally said dully.  
  
Two-Bit hooted and Angela went pink. "I can't believe you," she hissed. Turning quickly, she stormed out.  
  
"Two-Bit," Dally said quickly, before the greaser could follow her. "You won't...tell no one right?"  
  
Two-Bit raised his eyebrows. Before he could answer Tim beat him to it.  
  
"He won't. You didn't hear? He's as much a faggot as anyone."  
  
Two-Bit shook his head. "You wish, Shepard. I won't tell, but you probably wouldn't have to worry Dallas. I don't think Sodapop would care one way or the other."  
  
"That's Soda. He's just like that," Dally said tensely.  
  
"Like what?" Tim said impatiently. He didn't like all this talk about someone he barely knew.  
  
"Like completely understanding of everything. He's just a great guy. Nicer than anyone I know, and he knows how to have a good time."  
  
"Sounds cool," Tim said nodding.  
  
Dally looked up quickly. "But he's definitely into girls," he said, more loudly than he intended. "What with that blonde he's dating."  
  
Two-Bit looked at him funny. "Yeah I didn't say he wasn't. Just that he'd be cool with it." He thought a minute. "Of course, you never know what Steve and him might be up to in that back of that DX."  
  
Tim laughed. "Yeah, I gotta meet this kid. Introduce me sometime," he said down to Dally.  
  
Dallas didn't answer.  
  
After a minute, Two-Bit shrugged. "Well, maybe I'll get going," he said slowly, looking back and forth between the two others. "Don't worry, I won't tell no one Dallas."  
  
He slid quickly out the door, closing it behind him with a wink.  
  
Tim stretched. "Well that went okay," he said dryly, extending a hand to Dally. "Matthews took it well, Angela..." he winced slightly. Dally stood up abruptly, ignoring Tim's hand. Tim raised an eyebrow. He already had an idea of what was bugging the tow-headed greaser. Dally almost radiated anger, his hair shining brightly, his blue eyes flashing. Tim thought that whoever that Sodapop kid was, he couldn't possibly more attractive than Dallas. Better looking, nicer form, better build or more classic features he might have, but no one could hold a candle to Dally in the area of attraction. There was just something about the guy that drew people to him. Especially when he was in a dangerous mood. Even just looking at him while he was angry made Tim hot. Smirking to himself, he said casually, "That Sodapop sure sounds like a great guy-"  
  
"He's a pansy," Dally hissed. "A loudmouth, and he flirts with everyone."  
  
"Everyone?" Tim said, letting the intention infiltrate the word.  
  
Dally turned on him quickly, but saw only laughter in the older man's eyes. His face went hot. "Shut up. That ain't funny."  
  
"You're jealous," Tim said delightedly.  
  
Dally snorted. "Of what? You ain't nothing to me anyway."  
  
Tim brushed off the insult. "I could be," he said slyly, hooking his fingers through Dally's belt loop. He gave it a good hard tug, intending on pulling the greaser toward him, but the old jean material ripped easily. Tim's fingers slipped through air.  
  
"Damn," he cursed. Hopping up, he grabbed the younger teen around the waist, pulling him close. Dally gasped, surprised at Tim's sudden affectionate behaviour. Before his birthday, the only time they'd ever been that close had been when they were fighting about something. Tim slid his hand along Dally's naked back, making the blond shiver. "So whaddaya say?" Tim murmured, leaning down to kiss Dally's neck gently. He licked Dally lightly, then let his teeth graze across his soft skin, his fingers tickling up and down Dally's sides.  
  
Dallas was in shock. He'd never experienced anything like this before. In every other sexual relationship he'd ever been in he'd always had to be the aggressor. The girl was always the coy one, who'd gasp lightly when he grabbed them, and melt into his arms. He could never remember a time when it had been the other way around. He could also never remember being so hard. His legs were shaking.  
  
"Hmmm? Whaddaya say Dallas? Want me to be something to ya?" Tim kissed the greaser deeply, one hand pulling Dally's head towards his, the other still wrapped around Dally's waist, supporting the younger man. He could feel Dally's surprise. The boy was radiating waves of it. He'd never caught Dally so off guard before, and the sheer rush of power and dominance that flew through him both turned him on and made him bold. Tim slid his thigh between Dally's legs pressing firmly where they met.  
  
Dally's legs buckled. "A-aha," he gasped in pleasurable surprise as Tim's thigh slid against his crotch. The entire region from his belly-button down to his knees was tingling, and the feeling was expanding to the rest of his body. He'd never felt so alive, so energetic, so - unbelievably horny. He couldn't think, he couldn't resist. Every doubt, every fear, every humiliation was suspended and all he could think about was Tim's body and his own.  
  
Tim grinned crazily against Dally's mouth. He'd heard Dally's gasp, and felt his weight when he fell against him. He'd always wanted to be with someone who lost control like that. It made him think that it was the greaser's first time doing anything sexual, though he was smart enough to know it wasn't. Someone that sexually innocent couldn't exist in his world.  
  
Dallas shook. Between his legs Tim's thigh was rubbing gently back and forth against him. In another minute his jeans would be soaked for sure.  
  
"Tim!" Thunderous footsteps fell on the creaky house steps. Tim pulled away from Dally and tossed himself on the bed, just seconds before his father pulled open the door.  
  
"Where's your devil of a sister," the older Shepard demanded. His back to Tim's father (thankfully), Dally melted into a puddle on Tim's floor, trembling with pure sexual frustration.  
  
"Dunno," Tim said breathlessly, still managing to look cool and calm, for all the arousal Dally had felt on him two seconds ago. His eyes locked on Dally's and they were dancing merrily.  
  
"Damnit," his father cursed, and he left as abruptly as he'd entered.  
  
Slowly Tim moved closer to Dallas. He kissed him gently, but in the momentary intrusion all of the younger man's fears and memories returned to him. He shook his head helplessly, his body begging him to do the opposite. Tim shrugged and grinned lightly.  
  
"Well, if I'm something to you, we'll be able to do that anytime anyway," he whispered, sliding his arm around Dally.  
  
Dallas smiled shakily. He didn't even have to think about the answer. "Cool," he said simply, leaning into the embrace of his boyfriend. 


	10. Chapter 10

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 10  
  
A/N: Thank you everyone for your kind reviews!!!!!! Here is the next chapter. A little sour, but no lemon.  
  
P.S. It might be kind of slow, but I'm hoping to update more often this week anyway, so..whatever. R & R please!!!!!!  
  
Back at home, yet again, he was tossing and turning in his little bed, asleep and dreaming.  
  
Dallas woke with a jolt, groaning softly. "Fuck I gotta stop dreaming," he moaned to himself. Still, he was relatively dry, so something must have woke him up...  
  
A loud banging and cursing made him jump. His father was home. "Goddamn it..." Dally heard him slur. He heard a loud crash, like glass breaking and then an even louder thump. Then silence.  
  
"Uhhh," he groaned, flopping backwards on his bed. He was still tired. "Damned dreams," he swore. Kid stuff. He squirmed out of his damp sheets, trying to resist the overwhelming urge to shove both his hands down the front of his boxers. Also kid stuff. He was 16 now, when he was horny he should go get laid. He flipped over, and buried his face into his pillow, but he couldn't relax enough to fall asleep. Outside, the sky was streaked with pink light. "May as well get up."  
  
He staggered out of bed and peaked through his bedroom door. Outside his father was lying, fast asleep, in a puddle of spilt beer beside a broken bottle. Dally shoved the door open and limped silently towards the bathroom. He turned on the bath and waited, trying to drag his mind away from the gutter. After a minute of trying, he flipped the hot water tap off.  
  
It was cool outside, the sun just barely rising. Dally shivered, wishing he hadn't left his jacket at Tim's. The walk home bare chested the night before had been nice to cool him off, but this morning, after bathing in ice-water, he would have welcomed any added heat. He stepped into the diner, to warm up with a cup of coffee.  
  
"Hello Dallas!"  
  
Dally jerked around, trying to find the person who knew his name. Ernie waved a wrinkled hand at him from his usual position at the counter, while Archie laughed his head off.  
  
Dally scowled. A couple of days ago he'd actually liked those guys, but now it felt like they were making fun of him. Ignoring them, he picked a spot at the counter, and hailed the waitress. Tossing her blond hair the waitress marched over to where he sat.  
  
"Cup of coffee."  
  
"No problem. Should I just go ahead and toss it on you, or will you be doing that yourself again?"  
  
Dally yawned. He was too tired for this shit. "Hey, I gave you a tip, girl. Lighten up." The waitress glared at him. She turned her back to him, to fill the cup and then slammed it down in front of him, the brown liquid sloshing out the sides of the ceramic mug.  
  
"Gee thanks," he said sarcastically. The waitress glared at him and turned away, flipping her long blonde hair. Dally's eyes went over her body out of sheer habit, and came to rest on the hemline of her short uniform. He almost fell off the stool when his dick twitched. 'What the hell?' he thought. The waitress gave him a dirty look, and left quickly through a door in the back of the diner. Silence filled the diner. Dally gulped down half his coffee himself, trying to shake off the feeling that looking at the waitress had given him. He left the money on the counter and hurried from the diner. He shook himself again, feeling more confused than ever. What if...what if after a couple of days he'd suddenly gone back to liking girls? Dally set off down the street quickly. He had to find Tim.  
  
"Tim! Get out of bed!"  
  
Tim's eyes snapped open at the sound of his name, and he immediately regretted it.  
  
"Ahhh, who the fuck turned on the lights?" he groaned, rolling off the bed.  
  
"That would be nature, kid," his mother said dryly. "Now get up. I need you to pick up some things from the store for me."  
  
Tim groaned and dragged himself out of bed. He was still wearing jeans from the night before, but he pulled on a fresh shirt and his leather jacket.  
  
"I ain't a kid no more, ma," he growled. "I'm 18 for Christ's sake."  
  
"It's hot out kid, you might not want your jacket," his mother replied. "And comb your hair."  
  
"Yeah, yeah..."  
  
Mrs. Shepard folded her arms across her chest as she watched her son try to pull the flimsy comb through his tangle of hair. She was a small woman, with Spanish eyes and the dark curly hair that her eldest son bore. She was young for a mother, only 39 years old, but a failed marriage and three children had given her a hard, older look and attitude that her children had inherited as well. She had never wanted children, and didn't know the first thing about raising them, but still she loved them as much as she let herself.  
  
"Here's the list," she said, thrusting it into his hands, "and here's the money. Don't you dare run off with it, or I'll have your hide."  
  
"Sure you will," Tim muttered, pocketing the cash.  
  
His mother smacked him across the side of his head. "Don't you talk to me like that."  
  
Tim rolled his eyes, but shut up. He may have been a gang-leader, and the toughest guy in Tulsa, but she was still his mother, and she still made the rules, and that would never change, as long as he lived.  
  
"Since when do you have two leather jackets? You didn't steal from someone did you, Timothy?"  
  
"DON'T CALL ME THAT," Tim said loudly. "And I don't have two."  
  
"Well, then whose is this?" His mother held up a dark brown leather jacket.  
  
Tim smiled in spite of himself. "Oh, that's Dally's. Must'a forgot it here since last night."  
  
His mother raised an eyebrow. "You had a girl over here last night?"  
  
Tim laughed. "No, no, Dally. Dallas Winston."  
  
"A boy? You had a boy over last night?" His mother dropped the look and the jacket.  
  
"Yeah, he's just a friend of mine," Tim lied.  
  
His mother fixed him with a piercing stare. He may have been able to make a living being a crook, but when he lied, his ma sensed it. Tim felt a chill go through him at the look on his mothers face. "Yeah, ma, jeez, it's no big deal. It's not like Angela inviting over a guy."  
  
"No, of course not," she said suspiciously. She didn't know what he'd said that had triggered her "ma" alarm, but she'd figure it out soon enough.  
  
Outside he was nearly blinded by light. It was warm, but not that hot, and he pulled up his jacket.  
  
"Tim!" Tim looked up, shielding his eyes with his hand. Dally waved to him and jumped over the fence to his house.  
  
Dallas grinned, shoving his hands into his pockets. At this moment he couldn't even remember what the waitress looked like. "Hey," he said, suddenly feeling nervous.  
  
Tim smiled back. "Hey." Dally looked as good as he remembered, his hair still damp from his morning bath and shining brightly. Tim was suddenly very conscious of the fact that he hadn't bathed yet this morning.  
  
Dally glanced down. He could never remember feeling this nervous with anyone, let alone Tim.  
  
Tim glanced around him, making sure they were alone, then pulled Dally close and gave him a quick kiss. "Mornin'," he murmured.  
  
Dally smiled brightly, all nervousness evaporating. Tim smelled warm, like sleep and his bed. Mmmm. "What's up?"  
  
"Not much. I've got a couple of errands to run. Do you wanna come?"  
  
Dally smirked. "Of course. All the time."  
  
Tim rolled his eyes. "Get your mind outta the gutter Winston." He let his hand slide slowly up Dally's thigh, but the other boy stepped back quickly.  
  
"Maybe not," Dally said slowly. He looked away. "Maybe I'll...just go find the guys or something." He took a step backwards.  
  
"Look," Tim said quickly. "If you don't wanna go with me that's cool, but-" he lowered his voice. "Tonight maybe?"  
  
Dally cocked his head to the side. "Tonight?"  
  
Tim nodded. "I know a place. Just come here okay? 8 o'clock?"  
  
Dally bit his lip and pretended to think about it. Tim looked so desperate for him to say yes, it was almost funny. "Okay," he said finally. "This better be worth my time Shepard."  
  
Tim grinned. "Trust me, it will be." 


	11. Chapter 11

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 11  
  
A/N: Hi y'all! This will be the last update for awhile (probably about 2 ½ weeks) because I'm going on a roadtrip...to the states! Wow man, I know, but I'm one of those people commonly known as a Canadian, so it's very cool for me. I'm only going like, 10 hours away to Chicago from Toronto (which is swelteringly hot, and where I own a cat and have never seen an igloo btw). Anyway, point being, this one should be long.  
  
P.S. I know nothing about cars. Please forgive me.  
  
"Is this all?"  
  
Tim nodded absently to the cashier worker and handed over the money. He was still tired, and lost in daydreams about a certain someone.  
  
"Here's your bag, sir." Tim accepted the paper bag and ambled slowly out of the grocery store.  
  
"Hey, Shepard! Wait up!" Tim squinted in the bright sunlight, hoping for a second that Dallas had followed him after all. One of his gang came running up, waving. Tim recognised him instantly: Donald Pinter, if you wanted to get your ass kicked, and Donny to everyone who knew him. He was one of the toughest in the gang, and liked to prove it.  
  
"Hey, man," the greaser said, slouching and lighting a smoke. "We ain't seen ya around much. What's going on?"  
  
"Nothing much," Tim said slowly. In a sudden flash of thought, he'd realised that if his gang found out about him and Dallas, he would be either dead, or wishing he was. "There ain't nothing much to fight about anyway."  
  
Donny narrowed his eyes and said in a rough voice: "You gettin'slow Shepard? Goddamn faggot Socs gettin' bold again. Just yesterday, that dumb kid Davis got jumped..."  
  
"Uh huh," Tim said, not listening. "Listen, I'd better get goin'."  
  
Donny curled his lip menacingly. "You better show up next time we meet. The gang is startin' to doubt you. Who ya been hanging around with these days, huh?"  
  
"Dallas Winston," Tim said before he could stop himself. He could barely contain his laughter as Donny's eyes widened. The greaser recovered instantly and nodded. Dally's name commanded respect still, which was reassuring. No greaser in Tulsa would dare call him a faggot.  
  
"That's tuff," he said, his voice lightening. "You an' him are tight, right? He joining us or something?"  
  
"Nah," Tim said shaking his head. "Likes to work by himself. An' he's got no sense of loyalty. Plus if that little shit pops my tired one more time I might just take him out."  
  
Donny dropped his cigarette. "Well, if he ever changes his mind, we could use him."  
  
Tim smirked. "Yeah, Dally's good for all sorts of things you'd never even think of." Then he walked away, humming to himself.  
  
***  
  
"So...Dally...how's...Tim?"  
  
'Shut the hell up!' Dally thought wildly, sending a furious look in Two- Bit's direction. He glanced quickly to where Soda and Steve were, but they weren't listening. He relaxed slowly, saying nothing. The rusty-haired greaser had been throwing out remarks like that about Tim the entire afternoon. The four greasers were sitting in the garage at the DX where Soda and Steve worked, drinking Pepsis and tinkering with the cars. At least, Steve was tinkering with the cars. Soda would sometimes bang a wrench on something hard and hollow inside one of the vehicles, and Dallas would occasionally fling out some useless advice that included several words of whose meaning he didn't know ("carburettor" being one of those), but otherwise the other three were only just sitting back and soaking in the summer heat.  
  
"Hey Soda, ya wanna help me out here?" Steve yelled beneath the hood. Soda ambled over to check it out, although, everyone knew, if Steve couldn't figure it out, no one else had much of a chance.  
  
"Try the radiator," Dally called. Steve shot him a dirty look and gestured to the corner where a bunch of metal dealies had been tossed. "Already got rid of that, man."  
  
Soda laughed. "Nice call Dallas," he teased. Dally shrugged. He was better with horses anyway.  
  
Casting a sidelong glance at the blond, Two-Bit murmured: "Guess faggots don't know much about cars then, huh."  
  
Dally leapt off the stool he'd been slouched over and tackled the taller greaser, pulling both to the ground. Dally landed on top, crushing the air from Two-Bit's lungs. He'd only managed to take a few swings before Sodapop hauled him off.  
  
"Calm down, man. Relax, that ain't gonna help nothin'," Soda said quietly. Dally glowered at Two-Bit, who glared back out of a purpling eye.  
  
"What happened?" Steve called, still working.  
  
Soda looked from one greaser to the other. "Dunno, but I betcha Two-Bit made some crack about Dally and cars."  
  
"You're close Sodapop. Cars yeah, but it's a certain thing about Dallas, that not many people know about."  
  
Dally froze. Two-Bit smirked at him, raising an eyebrow suggestively. 'Don't tell him,' Dally pleaded silently. 'Please, just keep your mouth shut this once..."  
  
Soda look hard at Two-Bit. "Sounds like that's his business then," he said.  
  
Dally looked at him quickly, but Soda was already standing up, brushing off the dust that had settled on the back of his jeans. "No more fightin' huh? At least while we're here." He offered a hand to both greasers pulling them up (with some difficulty)."Now shake hands," he ordered.  
  
Dally rolled his eyes, but stuck out his hand. He didn't want to piss off Two-Bit any more than he had already. Two-Bit looked at his hand. A look passed over his face that Dally almost missed.  
  
The blond greaser pulled his hand back quickly. "Fuck you," he snapped, his anger taking over his reason. He'd seen the look on Two-Bit's face - disgust. He turned away. He didn't have to take that.  
  
"No, wait," Two-Bit said quickly. He reached over and grabbed Dally's hand. "No fightin'. Alright?" he said, shaking the greaser's hand firmly.  
  
Dally shrugged, still feeling mad. "Fine. For now," he said slowly. 'But I ain't taking any more chances with him,' he thought silently. He couldn't risk his temper getting him in any more trouble with Two-Bit - now that the greaser knew one of the biggest secrets he'd ever kept. 'You got a lot of secrets Dallas Winston,' he thought to himself with a dry smile. 'Bound to slip up on keeping one of them.' He turned to leave.  
  
"Where you going?" Soda asked, suddenly jolting Dally from his thoughts.  
  
"Probably to find Tim," Two-Bit said casually. Dally whipped around to glare at him, then cringed, realising how obvious that movement was. Two- Bit smiled innocently.  
  
"Well, say hi to him for me then," Soda said easily. He turned and pulled Two-Bit quickly after him.  
  
Dally left quickly, still burning from his anger at his wise-cracking friend.  
  
Through narrowed eyes, Sodapop watched him leave. He bit the inside of his cheek, trying desperately to quell the smile that threatened to plaster itself on his face. He'd been right, again. "Clear as fucking day," he murmured to himself, the smile appearing in spite of his efforts.  
  
"Goddamned Matthews," Dally muttered to him self, seething with fury. The worst thing was that he couldn't do anything about it. He had to do whatever Two-Bit wanted, or his secret was out. Dally sighed, running a hand through his hair. He needed a cover. Some girl he could pretend to like, someone he could date. Maybe Angela, then he'd have an excuse to hang out at Tim's...then he remembered that Angela knew too.  
  
"Shit," he said outloud. He'd have to find her, talk to her before she told anyone else. 'Tonight,' he thought to himself. He'd go to Tim's a little early and talk to her before they left. Tim could pitch in - he knew all the tactics of arguing with a little sister.  
  
As he passed by a store, he caught a glance of himself in its windows. "Oh, shit!" he said, wincing. He was officially going on a date tonight. He stared at himself in his reflection and thought desperately: "What the hell am I gonna wear?"  
  
***  
  
Tim stepped out of the shower, feeling refreshed and full of energy. He checked the clock beside his bed. It read 7:30 - half an hour before Dally was supposed to show up, and at least 45 minutes, he figured, until Dally actually showed up. Tim rubbed the towel through his hair, then let it drop, his skin cooling as it dried. It was then that he realised that he had no clue what he was going to be wearing. Tim shrugged and opened his closet, scanning the insides for something...clean. He flicked on the radio as he riffled through his clothes.  
  
Freshly showered (his second of the day) and dressed in his nicest jeans and a loose white shirt that he hoped looked nice, Dally hopped over the Shepard gate and hurried to the door. He didn't have a watch on him, but he'd guess it was about 7:30 - half an hour until his date, and hopefully early enough to catch Angela before she went out.  
  
He knocked smartly on the door, then, too impatient to wait, pushed at the door and let himself in.  
  
"Angela?" he called, softly, in case her parents were in. "You home?"  
  
The house was dark and quiet. Dally figured if Angela was home, it wouldn't be. Still, she could have been up in her room. He went quickly through the house and up the stairs, eyes scanning constantly for any loose parents. He was pretty sure he'd met Tim's parents before, but he didn't want to catch them in the middle of a fight. He crept to the edge of Angela's bedroom and slowly pushed the door open.  
  
"Angela? You in here?"  
  
Tim froze. He barely heard over the radio, the light voice calling for his sister. The light male voice. His eyes narrowed. No boyfriend was going up to his little sister's bedroom, not if he could help it. He slipped silently away from his closet towards the hall.  
  
"She ain't here buddy, now get outta my house!"  
  
Dally jumped around, surprised and came face to face with Tim. His eyes hit at Tim's bare chest, travelled up to his startled face and then went immediately down south.  
  
"Jesus," Tim gasped, backing quickly into his room, realising too late that he should have grabbed his towel.  
  
Dally stood in the hallway, frozen with shook, his eyes wide. Tim emerged before he could say anything, this time with a towel wrapped securely around his waist.  
  
"What the hell are you doing here so early?" he demanded.  
  
Dally said nothing, just stared at Tim, eyes and mouth wide open.  
  
Tim ran a hand self consciously through his hair. "You were coming at 8 remember? An' what did you want with Angela-"  
  
"Boy, Tim," Dally said at last, a little out of breath. "You're really, um- "  
  
"Yes, I know," Tim said dryly, hiding a smirk. "What are you doing here?" he repeated, somewhat less irritated.  
  
"I...can't....remember," Dally said faintly.  
  
Tim rolled his eyes. "Come on Dallas, give me a break. A couple of days ago an' seeing anything wouldn't have mattered."  
  
Dally looked at him in the eye and said: "Oh, yes it would have."  
  
Tim cracked up. He couldn't help it - Dally was being so serious. "You're lucky you can make me laugh Winston, or I'd kick you ass for not answering my question. For the third time, what are you doing here?"  
  
"I wanted to talk to Angela, to make sure she wouldn't say anything, and I thought since I was coming over here anyway, I'd catch her before she went out to party or whatever..."  
  
"She won't tell," Tim said quietly. "I know she won't. But she's too weirded out right now, so don't try to talk with her."  
  
"How do you know she won't tell?" Dally asked suspiciously.  
  
Tim shrugged. "She's my sister. I know she wouldn't do that. Besides, it's not like anyone would believe her anyway. She lies too much."  
  
Dally nodded slowly. Truth be told, at that moment he couldn't have cared less. He watched a random drip of water slide slowly down Tim's chest into the towel at his waist.  
  
"Dallas? You listening?"  
  
"No," he said bluntly. "Put some clothes on an' maybe I'll try harder." He paused. "Maybe."  
  
Tim smiled. "Don't say stuff like that Dallas if you can't follow through."  
  
Dally cocked his head to the side and gave Tim a questioning look. "Follow what through?"  
  
"You talk so much bull. If you aren't gonna let me even touch you, then don't talk about - about-"  
  
"About liking the way you look naked?" Dally suggested. "But Tim, I could totally follow through on that one. Hell, you could never put on pants again and I'd be totally happy."  
  
Tim rolled his eyes and headed back to his room to dress. "I'll be out in a minute, if you can possibly wait that long."  
  
"Hey man, maybe I should take a trip to the girls' bathroom," Dally shouted at him. "Heard they've been needing some new stuff up on their walls. Can you picture it? Big, black letters saying: 'TIM SHEPARD IS HUNG!'"  
  
"Shut up."  
  
"Take a survey. See how many others there are that like you naked-"  
  
"Don't you ever shut up?"  
  
"Not on your life. I can still talk bull, even if I'm not doin' it. Besides," Dally poked his head into Tim's room, just as the other man reached for his shirt. "Just because you ain't touchin' me doesn't mean I'm not gonna touch you at all."  
  
Tim choked on his own spit and dropped the shirt.  
  
Dally grinned and left the room at a run. "I'll be outside," he called back. "Just waitin' for you to come...out." 


	12. Chapter 12

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 12  
  
A/N: Hello all! I'm back! The USA was so cool!! (Not as cool as Canada...lol just kidding, just kidding!!) For all yous living in Chicago...you lucky poops! I went shopping there and well...wow! Anyway, enough about my...er, self. Lol, if you can't tell from this A/N my writing may not be up to snuff - though I really liked writing this chappie just cause of the place. Anyway, hope you enjoy!  
  
P.S. Sorry, not so lemony. More next chappie. Also, more Two-Bit next chappie. But this one's just about Tim and Dally.  
  
They took Tim's car, Tim driving, and Dally shotgun, wondering where the hell Tim was taking him. He'd asked but Tim had just said in a mysterious voice: "You'll see." So he sat, staring out the window, trying to think of something to say. The silence was almost palpable. The harder Dally tried to think of something to say, the more blank his mind became.  
  
Tim could feel the tension in the air, but he was worried more about whether anyone would see them. The place he had in mind was in one of the more remote parts of the city, and he'd been there a few times alone without being caught, but now was different. Now he was with someone. He couldn't just pretend he was in the wrong place. He glanced around trying to find something to break the tension. His eyes fell on Dally, sitting silently beside him. He reached over and tugged at his shirt-sleeve.  
  
"White? Loose? You couldn't have gone for nothin' more faggy, Dallas." Dally tensed and his brow furrowed. Mentally Tim kicked himself. He only meant to say something teasing to lighten the mood. "Sorry," he said hurriedly, "I meant-"  
  
"I coulda been decked out in a dress," Dally snapped. "Or wearing a pink shirt. Or rainbows or-"  
  
"I get it," Tim interrupted. "I was only joking."  
  
They lapsed back into silence, Tim feeling worse every second.  
  
Dally took a breath and shifted. "Well, I could always take it off."  
  
Tim smirked feeling relieved. "Later maybe."  
  
They pulled up a few minutes later. Dally glanced around him as he got out of the car. The street was empty, dark and dank, everything coloured the same monotone brown. It was clearly as poor as the area they'd come from, but - he looked swiftly around him - empty of garbage.  
  
"Dally?" Tim inquired. "You comin'?"  
  
Dally nodded absently, following Tim to a nearby brown building. 'Not exactly classy,' he thought to himself, 'but at least no one's gonna randomly run into us.' He shivered slightly. It was cool already, and the deserted street gave off a creepy feel. He stepped quickly through the door Tim opened.  
  
It was like stepping into a different world. They were in a bar/restaurant, with soft, mellow lights that made the red coloured walls almost glow. His feet sank instantly into a dark bluish carpet that grew lushly over the entire floor. There was a pool table in one space, coloured vivid green and surrounded by a pack of grinning men. In another corner, a small group of women seated in a booth shrieked with laughter at the joke a pretty blonde was animatedly telling. The glasses at the bar gleamed in the light, and one sweeping glance around the room told him that this was undoubtedly the cleanest place he'd ever been in.  
  
The waiter, impeccably dressed in a dark sweater, jeans and a white apron, sauntered over to them from the bar, where he'd been chatting with the bartender, and equally well-dressed man who (to Dally's shock) appeared to have no scars, and was, in fact, quite friendly looking.  
  
"Heyyy," said the waiter, giving Tim a light punch on the arm in greeting. "Haven't seen you in awhile." Tim smiled weakly. The waiter pushed back his long dirty blond hair and turned to Dally. "Who's this?" he asked abruptly, his eyes sweeping over Dally's body quickly, raising an eyebrow appraisingly. Dally started at the look on the man's face, uncomfortably realising that he was being checked out by another guy.  
  
"He's my, uh, we're - well...this is Dallas," Tim said in a rush.  
  
"Dallas huh?" The waiter said slowly, licking his lips. Dally shifted closer to Tim, feeling more discomforted by the second. The waiter wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Very pleased to meet you."  
  
"Uh..." Dally said stupidly.  
  
"Can we get a table?" Tim said, almost harshly.  
  
The waiter shrugged and lead them to a booth. "Anything to drink?"  
  
"Coke. Two," Tim said firmly. "I mean...he's only 16."  
  
Dally looked at Tim surprised and a little pissed. Why should the waiter care how old he was?  
  
The waiter smirked. "I'm only 19." He and Tim seemed to be locked in a staring match. Then the waiter shrugged again. "Two cokes coming up," he sang, and slinked back to the bar.  
  
"Um?" Dally said, giving Tim another look. Tim didn't meet his gaze.  
  
"So...what do you think?"  
  
Dally looked around considering. "It's very clean. And nice. I didn't know there were bars like this that existed. Everyone seems like they're having a really, uh...nice time." It was true. Every bar he'd been in had been smoky and ugly, with peeling paint and sticky floors. He'd never been in a bar where everyone was smiling at each other, and where waiters looked at you suggestively. "This is the nicest place I've seen around," he said truthfully. "Wonder why I've never heard of it."  
  
"Well, it's secret," Tim said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.  
  
Dally looked at him, bewildered. "Why?" Tim was shaking his head. "I bet a lot of the guys would like this place to take their dates. You know, somewhere nice, but not Socy."  
  
Tim snorted. "Um, Dallas? It's a gay bar."  
  
Dally stared at him, speechless. Then he promptly turned in his seat and scanned the room again. Now that he was looking for it, he wondered how he could have missed it. The guys playing pool were standing a little too close together, looking too relaxed for the game they were playing. One of them was suggestively running his hands up and down the pool cue, shooting looks at the player, who was blushing and trying not to notice. And the girls in the corner...the blonde girl was leaning against her friend with short dark hair, a friend who was clearly female, and just as clearly kissing her face.  
  
There was a smash somewhere close to him. "Shit!" Dally heard the waiter's voice screech. "Oh damn!" He looked over and saw the young man, surrounded by a shattered glass dripping with liquid that was slowly seeping into the carpet. His stunningly clean apron was now spotted with amber-coloured dots. "Oh no, now it's all over me," he said disgustedly.  
  
The bartender chuckled. He too had long hair, longer than Dally had seen anyone besides Tim wear it. Like Tim, it was dark and curly, but unlike Tim, he hadn't smoothed it down with grease. "Derek," he said, polishing an already spotless glass, "that's what the damn thing's for." He set down the glass and picked up a broom set in the corner of the bar. He grinned at Dally. "This," he motioned at Derek, "is why we get a carpet that's so dark coloured." Dally smiled back tentatively and was rewarded with a wink that he thought was maybe more than friendly. 'Wow,' he thought. 'Tim was right.' He almost laughed. He hadn't really thought gay bars existed. He turned around to find Tim shredding his napkin and glaring in the direction of the bartender.  
  
"JESUS," Tim seethed. "You're just every guy's wet dream ain't ya?"  
  
Dally blinked. "Hmm?"  
  
"Nothing. Abso-fucking-lutely nothing." But the napkin bits strewn in front of him told a different tale.  
  
Dally hesitated, then decided not to ask. He glanced back to where Derek and the bartender were trying to sweep up the glass. A piece of it twinkled close to their table. "Hey you guys missed a piece," he said, bolting up to get it, desperate to break away from the tension at their table. He bent down, scooped it up and was on his way to the bar when he heard from behind him a catcall, male laughter and then a seductive growl. Before he'd had a chance to absorb it, he was grabbed from behind and dragged away, the piece of glass tumbling from his hands.  
  
"Hey! What-"  
  
"We're outta here," Tim snarled in his ear.  
  
Outside the bar Dally finally managed to wrench his arm free. "What the hell was that about?" he demanded.  
  
Tim shrugged moodily, avoiding his gaze. "Like I said, you're what every guy wants," he said coolly.  
  
"What the hell are you talking about?" Dally snapped.  
  
Tim glared at the ground. "You walk in and everybody looks at you. The goddamn waiter was ready to jump you, and then that bartender was lookin' and those stupid guys playing pool nearly died when you - like a moron - bent over to pick up that glass-"  
  
Dally clamped his hands over his mouth, trying to stop the giggles from coming up. He didn't want it, he could have told Tim. He'd never felt more uncomfortable in his life. Swallowing hard he tried to comfort him. "They looked at you too-"  
  
Tim waved it off. "Hell I don't care what they think of me. But, you - you're mine." Dally stared. "I mean, I found you. I mean...damnit why you gotta be so...blond? And skinny," he snapped, eyes travelling over Dally's body. "And you got the blue eyes to match too, ain't that just great. Not to mention you're 16 and you look like you don't know a damned thing about gay sex, which you DON'T, so-"  
  
"Yeah, SO?"  
  
"So! Like I said, they all want you." Tim slouched, pulling up his jacket. "Just forget it," he said disgustedly.  
  
Dally shook his head. "I think they were only interested in me cause I was new," he said carefully. "Besides...I don't want any of THEM." He reached out a hand, tentatively touching Tim's shoulder. "C'mon let's go back inside. I'm hungry. And this place gives me the creeps."  
  
Tim shook his head. "Not if they're gonna do what they just did."  
  
Dally sighed impatiently. "Look, I'm supposed to be the jealous one."  
  
"I'm not jealous!" Tim shouted. "But you're-"  
  
"Yours, yes I know," Dally said dryly. "You FOUND me."  
  
Tim was silent. Then, "Fine," he said sulkily. He turned and stode back into the bar leaving Dally to stomp after him, tossing his hair impatiently.  
  
Back in the bar, everything looked the same. Derek looked over when they walked in. His lip curled in a sneer and he whispered something to the bartender. Tim ignored them. They could all go to hell and take their precious Dally with them too. He started towards their booth and stopped short, noticing that two glasses of coke were waiting. He could hear the pool table guys murmuring and knew they were watching Dally saunter across the room like a sex god. He'd just made up his mind to walk back out when two arms cautiously encircled his waist. He turned around, surprised, and almost died of shock when Dally kissed him deeply. He reached forward to pull him closer, but the younger boy pulled away quickly. From the pool table there were whistles and growls again, but suddenly Tim didn't mind them.  
  
"Dally," he said amazed. "You just-"  
  
"C'mon," Dallas said briskly, pushing him towards their booth. He looked around the room, then said loudly, "and if y'all had any doubts..." he lifted Tim's arm and settled it firmly on his shoulder.  
  
Tim couldn't help laughing. "Jesus, Dallas. Ain't you got no shame?"  
  
Dally gave him a pointed look. "Tim. It's me." He slid out of Tim's grasp and onto his seat. "Now I'm starved," he said, rubbing his hands together. "And since I'm YOURS," he grinned, "you're paying right?" 


	13. Chapter 13

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 13  
  
A/N:  
  
Dallas ran the bathroom tap cold, and splashed a handful of water in his face. In keeping with tradition, the restaurant bathroom was the cleanest he'd seen apart from the Curtis's. Different from the Curtis bathroom though, were the interesting notes scrawled on the bathroom walls, and the smooth hole 3-inches in diameter between the stalls, the sight of which made him laugh until he'd peed (fortunately, he was near the toilet).  
  
He'd had to get away. The waiter hadn't taken his hint to heart, and the ceaseless flow of sexual innuendoes that came his way was starting to annoy even him (although he stored one or two of them for future reference).  
  
He caught sight of the hole in the mirror and inhaled sharply. A sudden thought had occurred to him - one of much importance. He hadn't ever given a blowjob before, and he'd bet a million dollars that Tim would want him to, very badly. If it weren't for the fact that it hadn't yet been served to him, he would have up-chucked his dinner. Turning his eyes back to his dripping face, Dallas shook himself resolutely. He'd just have to take things slow with Tim. He raised an eyebrow in the mirror at himself.  
  
"They say there's a first time for everything," he murmured to himself and dried himself off on a paper towel.  
  
After carefully smoothing his hair he turned to leave. A foot from the door it swung open of its own accord, bashing him rightfully in the teeth. Staggering back, Dallas narrowly missed being trampled by two men, apparently joined at the hip or very closed to it.  
  
"Sorry 'bout that mate," said the token gorgey English bloke breathlessly as his partner attempted to suck the skin off his neck. Dallas considered breaking his legs, or shoving both their heads through the 3-inch hole. He decided it was in his best interests not to touch the groping mammals if he could help it, and hastily made his exit.  
  
A/N: Uh, steamy PDAs?  
  
"Hey there, bathroom alright?" Derek gave him a saucy smile.  
  
Dallas almost jumped out of his skin. "It - was alright," he said haltingly, and was rewarded with an encouraging grin. He'd never had anyone ask him about his trips to the bathroom, except on the one occasion he'd managed to zip up something that should never be zipped (making a helluva lotta noise requiring explanation as he was using Darry's bathroom). It scared him just in the slightest.  
  
"That's great. I hope those two guys didn't barge in on you or anything."  
  
"Uh huh. Heyyy!" Dally almost shouted, waving frantically at Tim. "Um, see ya," he told Derek. "My um, boy...friend gets pretty jealous." He bolted back to his seat, smiling gratefully at Tim just for his existence. "So the food's not here yet?" He took a sip of coke.  
  
"Slow fucking service here," Tim grumbled, sliding protectively closer to Dallas. He noticed that the waiter had obviously taken Dally's words (not to mention actions) as a personal challenge - he was flirting shamelessly with the youth which, much to Tim's satisfaction, seemed to frighten Dally more than turn him on.  
  
"Yeah, I know. I give much better service," the blond commented before noisily draining his drink. "I mean," he turned innocent blue eyes at Tim, "when I say something's 'coming right away' I actually mean it." The innocent look was destroyed as a wicked smile played across his lips.  
  
Tim rolled his eyes. Dally'd been making comments like that the entire time. They were funny, yes, and he enjoyed them - he just wished Dally would follow through on his promises.  
  
Dally bit his lip. He could tell what Tim was thinking, and he could have kicked himself for that last pun after his promise to himself.  
  
'Remember, first time for takin' it slow or you end up with a mouthful of...' Then he paused. 'Then again, there should be a first time for cock- sucking too,' he considered silently. Then he tried to imagine actually doing it. "Ick." So he'd tell Tim he had a headache, or something if he wanted one.  
  
" 'Ick' what?"  
  
Crap. "Um, ick my coke was flat."  
  
Tim gave him a hard look. "Don't be dumb. I know you better than that. 'Ick' is not a common Dallas word. If you say 'ick' than something had better be 'ick' or Dallas Winston would not have said it." He gave Dally an appraising look. "Could it be the thought of you actually 'giving service' that led to this 'ick'?"  
  
"No," Dally lied, secretly thinking that was spooky.  
  
"You're lying."  
  
"I've done it before."  
  
"You're still lying."  
  
"Fuck you!"  
  
"That's your job." Tim drained his own drink looking thoroughly amused. It only made Dally madder.  
  
"I'm not lying!" he insisted.  
  
"Bull. You've never even touched a dick besides your own, which is practically melded to your hand."  
  
"Have too!"  
  
"Whose then?"  
  
Shit. "This guy's."  
  
Tim smirked. "No! I woulda thought you'd touched a girl's penis." He leaned forward, looking Dally clearly in the eye. "I'm gonna have to train you ain't I? Blowjob? Hah! Not in my future."  
  
"Right, and YOU know all about them?" Dally said hotly.  
  
Tim smiled in a way Dally'd never seen him smile, and his eyes flicked across the room at the pool table guys, now sitting at a large booth.  
  
Dally gaped at him. He knew Tim as well as Tim knew him, and if the gang leader had ever told a true story this was it.  
  
"The middle one. The yellow-haired guy," Tim murmured. Dally's eyes fell on the only blond of the group.  
  
"His colour's fake," he said harshly. "Look's bad."  
  
Tim inclined his head, accepting. "True. It's why I picked him though. Did it cause he'd be the closest thing to blowing you."  
  
Dally was speechless for the second time in 30 seconds. "He - I ain't...he don't look-" Dally swallowed. He hadn't even thought of the fellatio situation being one of those "and vice-versa" things. It was undoubtedly a nice thought. "That's the most romantic thing anyone's ever said to me."  
  
He would have bet that people in fucking Australia heard Tim laugh then.  
  
"Dallas, you FAG." Tim gasped, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.  
  
"You're one to talk," Dally said crossly, then jerked his hand at his mouth, and stuck his tongue in his cheek. Tim ignored him.  
  
"Only a guy like you would think a blow-job was romantic."  
  
" 'Blowjob' is not. 'Fellatio' is."  
  
"What?" Tim looked at him curiously. "Where'd you hear that word?"  
  
"I looked up all possible dirty words in the fourth grade just like you."  
  
Tim shook his head. "Yeah, well that's about all you know. Which is the point. I know more than you. In fact, I'm a fuckin' encyclopaedia compared to what you know."  
  
"Pfft." Dally made an indistinguishable French noise.  
  
"It's a wonder you can get yourself off. Bet you wouldn't even know how to give a hand-job, kid."  
  
Kid?! That did it. "I would too!" he hissed. "I'll prove it. Here and now."  
  
Tim snorted. "And how do you expect to do that?"  
  
Dally tugged the tablecloth down over Tim's lap and said nothing.  
  
"Dally?"  
  
The blond slid closer to Tim until their legs were touching.  
  
"Dallas."  
  
In one swift movement he undid the button and fly on Tim's jeans.  
  
Tim gasped slightly. "You're insane!" He grabbed Dally's hand.  
  
Dally raised an eyebrow. "C'mon Tim. No one will notice. And if they do, they won't care."  
  
"We're in PUBLIC."  
  
"Ooh, scary!" Dally said sarcastically. He leaned over and kissed Tim swiftly. "You can't tell me you're a prude right after telling me you've blown a guy." He glanced around. The bar was getting busier. A small crowd of girls and a few guys had come in while they'd been talking. "Don't it turn you on to do something in public?"  
  
Tim stared. "Don't tell me: you're kinky."  
  
"I ain't. Just relax okay? Try to look bored." Dally detached his hand from Tim's grasp and slip his fingers under the waistband of Tim's shorts.  
  
It shocked the hell out of him to touch Tim, but he tried not to show it. Truth be told he'd never voluntarily touched another guy's penis, let alone his best friend's. Maybe he WOULD stink at it. He hesitated, then throwing caution to the wind slid his hand further down and wrapped his fingers deftly around Tim's dick.  
  
Beside him, Tim quickly broke out coughing.  
  
Slowly, being careful not to move the tablecloth, Dally slid his hand down, swiveling it slightly as it went. He always liked that, so maybe it would work on other people. Tim's coughing fit stopped and he groaned softly in Dally's ear.  
  
'Jesus,' Tim thought wildly. He couldn't believe it was actually happening. He suppressed another groan as Dally slid his hand back up, and then down again. Having a 16-year-old jack him off under a restaurant table was undoubtedly the weirdest thing he'd done to date.  
  
Dally relaxed slowly. Tim was enjoying it, judging from the sounds he was trying not to make. He wracked his brains trying to think about what he liked himself. He'd never had to think about it before, but the information popped up instantly. Gently, carefully, he reached farther down, gently rubbing Tim's balls.  
  
Deciding to take Dally's advice, Tim popped on the bored look and leaned forward on the table, shielding his mouth. "Take it easy," he whispered, his voice squeaking slightly. "Else I'm not gonna be able to keep quiet."  
  
Dally grinned maliciously. "Well, ain't that your problem?"  
  
Five minutes later Tim was squirming in his seat. Anyone who looked over could have guessed what was going on. Dally found that he did not care.  
  
"Mmmm, feel okay?" he asked innocently.  
  
Tim glared at him, his face flushed red. "Shut up. Waiter's coming."  
  
Derek was maneuvering through the bar crowd towards them, carrying with him two burgers and fries and two more cokes. Tim plastered on his best bored look.  
  
Dally raised his eyebrow. "Pretty convincing look," he murmured. "Bet I can break it." Slowly, he let his hand slide down Tim's hard-on until his fingers were resting on the very end. Gently, so gently he was just barely touching him, Dally began to swirl his fingers across the tip of Tim's dick. The dark haired greaser let out a pitiful moan beside him.  
  
"This is yours right?" Derek gave them a bright smile. Dally nodded serenely. Tim jerked his head, not looking at him. "Alright."  
  
As Derek set the plates down, Dally moved his fingers faster. He gently began to rub the palm of his hand across Tim's crotch. Tim let out a small strange noise.  
  
Derek gave him a weird look. "You okay?"  
  
"Indigestion," Tim gasped. He was trying his best not to move his hips and only partially succeeding. It made it all the more obvious. 'Don't think about it. Don't think about it,' he chanted in his head, but it was impossible. 5 more seconds of this and he was screwed. He gave Dally a pointed look but the blond carefully ignored him.  
  
Derek raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at the full plate of food he was setting before Tim. "You ate before you came here?"  
  
"Oh no," Dally said wickedly. "He eats second. He comes first." Beside him Tim suddenly let out a low moan and covered his face with his hands, his hips jerking uncontrollably. Dally smiled innocently at Derek, his dripping hand working feverishly in Tim's pants.  
  
"Stomach ache," he said sweetly. "He'll be okay."  
  
"Right." Derek rolled his eyes, mouthed the words 'bull shit' at Dally then sauntered away, smirking.  
  
"Fuck you," Tim seethed, his hands still covering his face. His voice was breathless, and he was clearly pissed and embarrassed - but there was a note of astonishment there as well. He could just never tell with Dally what the blond would do next. It was a bit unnerving, but exciting all the same.  
  
"Eat. Bet you're starved," Dally replied. "I gotta wash up first."  
  
"I can't believe you did that. I ain't never done anything like that before."  
  
Dallas smirked at Tim and leaned closer. "Well there's a first time for everything - KID." 


	14. Chapter 14

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 14  
  
A/N: Okay, fully understand that the last chappie jumped ahead in, well, the planned relationship between Tim and Dallas. But, well...it was just so much fun - lol! Anyway, I didn't really plan for Dallas to be doing that because he really wanted to do something sexy, it was more like, he's just that stubborn. Anyway, the whole point of this A/N is to say that they'll probably cool it for a little while, for those of you very much bothered by the last chapter, but BE WARNED! As much as many of you think that being gay isn't in Dallas's character, neither is being celibate. And Tim ain't no angel either. But I'll give y'all fair warning if and when there's another steamy part don't worry!  
  
P.S. Very sorry this chappie took so long. Start of school ya know.  
  
P.P.S. In all the old shows, the mother and father always call each other "Mr. Something" or "Mrs. Something". Just so you know where I'm coming from. It's not that I'm too lazy to actually make up names...lol. Read on to find out what I mean.  
  
To Recap: Tim/Dally slash. They get together when Tim drunkenly kisses Dally. Dally fights the urge to jump Tim, Tim does all he can to push Dally forward. Dally's had bad experience with jail and men, so even though he's horny, he keeps pulling back (and Tim ain't allowed to touch). But Dally keeps losing to his hormones. So far they've made out a bit and Dally's er, done some bad (but good) stuff to Tim in restaurant during their date, after which, is when this chappie starts.  
  
"Uurrrgh."  
  
"Food?"  
  
"No...it's not that..."  
  
Tim glanced sideways into the passenger seat where Dallas was slumped over, staring moodily out the window. "What is it then?" Secretly, Tim had an idea of what Dally was sulking about, but he was in severe denial. In hindsight, he'd quite enjoyed what had taken place in the restaurant, and wasn't looking forward to the end of such events. However, he knew Dallas far too well, and, although he really, really wished he didn't (as he had wished on many an occasion), he also knew what was coming.  
  
"I...well, I was thinking-"  
  
"Dallas cut the bullshit and tell me what it is," Tim said flatly. He wasn't at all happy. If he was right (and he was pretty damn sure he was) then his hopes of finally breaking Dally's abstinence streak were dying fast. A steady stream of curse words wound themselves through his brain, but he stayed silent. Dallas was still his date, and bitching about not getting laid to your date was never a good idea.  
  
Dally tapped his fingers on the door. He knew exactly how Tim would react to what he was going to say. He knew exactly how Tim was feeling, and what he was thinking. The strange part was that he had no idea what was going on in his own head. He decided the best thing to do was to just blurt it all out and see if it made any sense. "That was weird. I mean at the time it was cool. But then - now I mean - it just feels...gross." 'Noooo!' Dallas thought the instant after he'd stopped speaking. He sounded so much like a girl. It freaked him out just a little bit.  
  
"Gross? Gross? It was GROSS to you?" Tim exploded. This wasn't fair. Not at all, and Dallas should have known that. Since he clearly didn't, Tim was gonna express that in the most formidable way he knew how: yelling it. Dally was gonna cower under his wrath. "Are you serious? You were the one who fucking started it. You were the one who wouldn't lay off the sex puns, and now you're the one backing out? NO FUCKING WAY."  
  
"Fuck off," Dally said calmly. "You're only pissed cause you thought you'd get some. Well, I call just as many rules in this game hotshot, and I'm sayin' that back there was a one time thing. You don't like it then you can go fuck someone else."  
  
Tim was silent. He was actually a little surprised. He knew Dallas well, and of course the tow-headed teen wouldn't take any of his shit. But he'd been thinking that the person sitting next to him was his date, just like any other girl. Boy, was he wrong.  
  
"I ain't sayin' that it's never gonna happen," Dally continued. "I mean, I'm never gonna fuck you, but I might do other stuff. Just not yet." He paused, trying to think up a cool way to phrase what he meant. "Since this is all about experimenting, I'm tryin' something different an' I'm goin' slow."  
  
"You mean you're chicken shit."  
  
'Duh.' Dally thought. "Fuck you. No way. I just don't want to."  
  
Tim sighed. There wasn't much he could do, besides trying to force Dallas into it. But that wasn't an option. Even if his conscience wouldn't bug him, he'd lose too much - his friendship with Dally, and probably a testicle if the blond even got a good shot at him. "Why'd you do it then, if you're so all-fired about bein' slow," he griped.  
  
Dallas scowled. "You made me. You tricked me into it."  
  
"I did NOT."  
  
"Did too. Made me think I had to prove anything to you."  
  
Tim rolled his eyes. "Well you certainly did proved my point."  
  
Dally stared out the window. He wished he could say otherwise, but Tim was right. He frowned. Maybe he was just a know-nothin' kid to Tim, but he was doing things his way, and there wasn't a soul alive who could change his mind about that. "If you don't like it then just find someone else," he said roughly.  
  
Tim sighed, cursing himself for being so sentimental. "Well, I don't want no one else. I want you. And I got you."  
  
"Only part of me," Dally muttered.  
  
"I'll be damned if I let you push me outta what I want."  
  
"Fine."  
  
"I'm stickin' with you, you're stickin' with me. Or I'll kick your ass."  
  
"FINE."  
  
They drove the rest of the way back to Tim's in silence, both secretly cheering their own private victories.  
  
"Dallas!" Sodapop bounded across the kitchen and gave the tow-headed teen a mighty whack across the head. A little too hard. "Uh...sorry," he said dismissively. "Where ya been?"  
  
"Oh, out," Dally couldn't help grinning. "Checking out shit around town. Hi Mrs. Curtis," he added, as Soda's mother came swiftly through the kitchen door.  
  
"Sodapop, finish those dishes," she said, giving Soda her best imitation of an evil eye (pitiful, by Dally's standards). "Dallas, how wonderful to see you. Come on in. The boys are in the back playin' some awful card game that I just know you'll enjoy. That's a nice shirt by the way."  
  
Behind his mother's back, Sodapop pointed at Dally's shirt, crossed his eyes, and then doubled up in silent laughter.  
  
"Uh, thanks Mrs. Curtis," Dally said awkwardly, tugging self consciously on the sleeve of his shirt. He made his way through the tiny house to the den, passing Mr. Curtis, reading and smoking in the chair. The older man started when Dally entered, and attempted to hide his cigarette. "Oh, just you." He grinned. "Hope you got some tricks up that sleeve. Ol' Stevie is playin' a great game tonight." He looked curiously at Dally's shirt. "Speakin' of sleeves-"  
  
"MR. CURTIS. Set a good example for the young boys won't you?" Soda and his mother appeared from the kitchen, Mrs. Curtis slowly whacking a spatula into her open palm, and gazing pointedly at the cigarette her husband was holding.  
  
"Ah, yes, dear, I was just tellin' Dallas here," the man began hastily, "how he ought not to smoke, ah, you see," he brandished the flaming Kool, "got this from him, and, ah, about the evils of gamblin', yup."  
  
"Why you lyin' rascal!"  
  
Sodapop rolled his eyes and tugged Dally towards the den. His mother's laughter followed them down. Dally couldn't help smiling. If he ever got married, it'd have to be like that. Given his chances, he figured he was going to be a bachelor for the rest of his life.  
  
"Heyyy, look who showed up," Two-Bit yelled out. "Dallas how was the date?"  
  
"It was great," Dally said without thinking. Then his heart stopped. "Uh, what?"  
  
Two-Bit too was looking as though he'd stopped breathing for a minute. He shook himself. "Uh, I mean, you never really told us what happened with Sylvia."  
  
At this, the entire gang fixed their eyes on Dally and a string a hoots and catcalls filled the air from all except for Darry who yelled over the din: "Let the man speak!"  
  
Silence. Dally had stopped breathing. "Ah...ah...ah-"  
  
"Just so you know," Darry said with a look at Soda, "I ain't sayin' that whatever Dallas does is cool for his age."  
  
"Aw shut up," Soda said playfully, and Darry grinned back.  
  
Dally's heart, meanwhile, had kicked itself back into gear. "I told y'all already, she wasn't my type-"  
  
"Yeah, well she told me y'all got pretty hot and heavy a couple nights ago," Two-Bit said knowingly. He winked at Dallas.  
  
"Uh, sorta," Dally replied, slightly dazed at the niceness displayed by the wisecracker. Truth be told, that night he'd bolted out of the bedroom, pulled Two-Bit from his date with Angela, punched him, and then kissed a man, after failing to fuck Sylvia, but no one needed to know that. "I mean, we did get up to Buck's room if ya know what I mean." More catcalls ensued.  
  
"Hey, Dallas, you got something on your shirt," Steve said suddenly. Dally looked down and his heart lurched. He quickly folded over his sleeve. "Uh, hold on. I gotta, um, I'll be back." He hurried from the room to the bathroom, cursing himself for being stupid enough to forget to check his shirt.  
  
"Damn, damn, damn," he muttered. He of all people should know that it wasn't that easy to get that stuff outta clothing. He was scrubbing at the sleeve of his shirt when someone knocked. "Jes' a second."  
  
Two-Bit slipped in, and closed the door behind him.  
  
"What the hell happened to privacy?" Dally snapped.  
  
Two-Bit smirked. "C'mon. You ain't got nothin' that I ain't seen before. 'Sides I knew what you was using the bathroom to do." He leaned against the wall his eyes fixed on Dallas. "So'd you to fuck or what?"  
  
"It ain't none of your damn business," Dally said harshly.  
  
"You top or bottom?" Two-Bit continued, ignoring the blond. "Bet you're the top huh? Like to go fuckin' up-"  
  
Dally's fist slammed squarely into Two-Bit's jaw. "We didn't fuck," he snarled, as Two-Bit staggered back. "And it ain't - none - of - your - damn - business."  
  
He pushed Two-Bit back into the door. The other greaser was glaring back at Dallas with as intense emotion as the blond.  
  
"You never really know," Two-Bit hissed. There was a weird gleam in his eyes. Dally backed off slightly, but stayed close enough to let Two-Bit know who was in charge.  
  
"What the hell does that mean?" he demanded.  
  
Two-Bit shrugged one shoulder. "Looks like anyone can turn out fag huh - you want the whole world to know?" he added quickly, as Dally pulled back to punch him again. "Cause I can do that." The blond glared furiously at him, wishing he had the balls to just punch him anyway.  
  
"You better shut it," Dallas whispered menacingly.  
  
Two-Bit was looking at him with the same strange look in his eyes. "What's it like?" he asked suddenly. "I mean, he ain't like a girl, no way, no how. And it ain't weird-"  
  
"I said it ain't any of your damn business," Dally growled.  
  
"You never wanna be with a broad?" Two-Bit kept on. "I mean come on. You been with them so long, and this whole time you was never thinking about them?"  
  
"You just don't get it," Dally said, frustrated. "This is what I wanna do. And I ain't never let no one tell me to do otherwise than what I wanna do, so quit tryin' or I might just beat ya anyway. I don't give a fuck what you, or anyone else thinks-"  
  
"Yeah, that's why you told everyone 'bout Tim."  
  
He couldn't think of anything to say to that.  
  
"You think you're so strong. Like nothing touches you. You think you're so prepared for this, well, you don't know shit. Ever cross your mind that maybe you're not such a man? Ever think about what you're doin' and what's gonna happen because of it?" Two-Bit took a step closer. His eyes were blazing, and the usual humour was gone from his face. "You think you're gonna breeze through this without a scratch cause of the shit you done for a rep. The tough, Dallas Winston, right? Well, grow up, DALLAS."  
  
Dally sucked in a breath. He'd never heard Two-Bit say so much without cracking a joke. He could see how Two-Bit could be intimidating. "Fuck you," he snapped. "I ain't gotta take this shit from you - KEITH." He grabbed the collar of Two-Bit's shit and jerked the greaser away from the door. He sped out of the bathroom and didn't look back.  
  
"Leavin' so soon?" Soda called, when he stalked through the kitchen. Dally didn't answer. He needed somewhere to go - someplace comfortable, where he could feel good again. A place where he could just be himself and not have to think about anything Two-Bit had said.  
  
The door creaked open, and Tim stuck his head out, wearing old jeans, a loose t-shirt and an amused expression on his face. "Well, well, well. I haven't seen you in ages."  
  
"Just shut up and let me in," Dally said sullenly. 


	15. Chapter 15

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 15  
  
A/N: Hello all you happy sailors! Anyhoo, here's the next chappie, thanks to you who reviewed: makes me feel happy! Theoretically, happy people should write more to be more happy, but I'm lazy and schooling and such...so forgive me peoples, I dunno when the next chappie is gonna come after this one.  
  
P.S. Sodapop I think I'm on 10 peoples author list. I think. And also Peaches (etc), Two-Bit has his reasons...he ALWAYS has his reasons... you see.  
  
P.P.S. Nit-picker (I'm sure you have a name - lol) thanks for the update - I'm Canadian, and in Canada, most of what I've written would be pg-13, or rather, AA-14, which is like the equivalent I guess. (MOST, that is. Not all.) All I know is that Canadians are rather lax with the ratings (which I quite enjoy). But, I'll probably just leave it at pg-13, since I hate that they never show the rated "R" stories on this site. BUT!!!! I do thank you for the heads up. I don't want no one offended when they could avoid it. I will now post a warning to anyone reading it in the story in big, bold letters:  
  
ATTENTION!!!! CONTAINS SCENES OF GRAPHIC DALLY/TIM LOVIN', AND QUITE A BIT OF THE "F" WORD. Y'ALL HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!! THIS IS OFFICIALLY RATED "R". DO NOT READ ON IF YOU ARE UNDER...  
  
Oh dear. What's the age limit?  
  
P.P.P.S. I just read what I wrote and it sounded sarcastic - it's not meant to be, very sorry. That's honestly all true (especially the rating part - Canadians back me up here!)  
  
On to the friggin story already (I like to talk):  
  
"Mmmahh Dally," Tim groaned. He shifted his weight closer to the other on the bed, letting his hands comb through Dally's silky blond hair (Hello Harlequin). A week of soft kisses, fully clothed above-the-waist groping and the only hands on his flesh being his own and Tim was just about going insane. After that one night a week and a half ago when he could have sworn that Dally wouldn't be able resist him, and the date at the restaurant/bar that had made him just as desperate for Dallas, the tow-headed teen had been careful to keep his distance. (A/N: Here demonstrated - the integrated recap.) Nothing seemed to be able to break his shield like before. Tim almost wished someone else would catch them in the act. Dally seemed to like doing things when other people knew about it. But now, making-out with Dally was like making-out with a china doll, he was so afraid of breaking him. "Dating" him was like being involved with a blonde, virginal, Soc girl. One that punched him on occasion.  
  
"Mmm what," Dally mimicked, wiggling out of Tim's hands. If he got too much closer, he'd be tempted to try something else on Tim's body. He knew it damn well - he'd been dreaming about it every night for a week.  
  
"I...want-"  
  
"Too bad. I don't go for that, remember? You an' me - this was your idea man, don't forget that."  
  
Tim groaned again louder. He wanted to tell Dally that it had been 6 years already since the jail incident and that he should just get over it, but he knew he would only get a swift kick in the pants for his pains.  
  
"It ain't fair, I hope you know that," Tim said instead.  
  
"Life ain't fair," Dally grunted. "Get used to it."  
  
Tim wiggled around, pulling Dally between his legs and wrapping his arms around the blond. Dally tensed, but slowly relaxed, leaning backwards against Tim's chest. After a pause he spoke.  
  
"This is still weird, isn't it."  
  
Tim buried his face in Dally's hair. "It's never been weird Dallas. You're the only weird thing around here."  
  
Dally snorted, digging his elbow backwards into Tim's ribs. He knew that Tim was wondering why he couldn't just touch him again, like before. He was wondering the same thing himself.  
  
They sat in silence for awhile on the bed, Tim gently combing Dally's hair, pulling the stray strands that had caught on the blond's own face. He kissed the back of Dally's head gently, savouring the feel of silk on his lips.  
  
"What is with your obsession with my hair?"  
  
"Nothing," Tim replied, laughing. "I'm just a greaser, that's all."  
  
Dally twisted around so he was sitting cross-legged between Tim's legs, looking up at the dark haired gang-leader. He'd felt something he couldn't explain just then, like a surge of excitement, and it just made him want too look at Tim. He couldn't help grinning at the taller greaser.  
  
Tim grinned back at him and then kissed him. "Try again?" he asked, breathlessly. "C'mon Dallas you know you want it."  
  
Dally squirmed. Truth be told he wanted it so bad he felt like he might explode. But, he didn't want any part of the gross feeling in the pit of his stomach that came afterward.  
  
Tim fingered the edge of Dally's t-shirt. "Trust me," he whispered. "C'mon. It ain't gonna feel bad, Dal."  
  
"Right," Dally said flatly, and quickly backed off.  
  
Tim sighed loudly, frustrated. "Goddamn, Dallas."  
  
Dally leaned back on the bed next to Tim and closed his eyes. "I just don't want to."  
  
"Bullshit. You're scared."  
  
Dally said nothing.  
  
"We both know I'm right. You want it just as bad as I do. Worse maybe, since you've been crazy-dumb, and very suddenly become totally abstinent practically the day you've turned 16. 16, Dallas!"  
  
"Well-"  
  
"I know as well as anyone what a 16 year old thinks about all the time. And it ain't daisies and unicorns, Dallas. And this comes after you've been used to getting off 10 times a day. What you think THAT'S gonna make you suddenly a man? You just going to give up doing anything for the rest of your life?"  
  
There was a short pause, then: "I AM a man," Dally said sulkily. He didn't like the direction this talk was going in. He knew Tim was just blowing off steam, but his speech was starting to remind him of Two-Bit.  
  
Tim snorted. "You sure are a piece of work, Dallas."  
  
"Maybe, but I ain't desperate for nothin'. YOU'RE the one pressing for it."  
  
Tim was quiet for a while, just listening to Dally breathe. It was practically a lost cause, but he wasn't about to give up yet. "You ain't made of stone, Dally," he said suddenly. He was watching the blond pretend to be sleeping beside him. It wasn't working. "Dallas."  
  
Dally stayed silent, trying to make his breathing deep and even. He wished he could just will himself to sleep. For the first time in a week, he wished he wasn't with Tim.  
  
"Dally I know you ain't asleep," Tim said impatiently. Still the blond refused to speak. An idea suddenly struck Tim.  
  
Beside him, Tim had gone awfully quiet. Dally didn't trust that. He didn't have to look at the man to know he was plotting something. And then suddenly there was a warm hand sliding under his t-shirt.  
  
Dally's eyes flew open. "What the hell-"  
  
"Relax," Tim said calmly. "I won't go any farther down than you want me to. That said, I'm gonna make you want me to go lower."  
  
"Yeah, go ahead and try," Dally scoffed. In the back of his mind, something was warning him that this was a horrible idea.  
  
Tim raised an eyebrow. Gently he slid his hand to the edge of Dally's jeans. He let his fingers trail back and forth across Dally's skin, barely brushing the blond's midsection. In 30 seconds Dallas couldn't even lie still.  
  
"Stop!" he gasped. Tim ignored him. He leaned over and tugged on the towel that served as his curtain. The room suddenly got darker. Most of the sunlight couldn't get in, and neither Tim nor Dally ever turned on lights when they didn't have too. As his eyes adjusted Dally could see Tim sliding over his legs, pulling off his t-shirt in the process. Then he reached for Dally's. The blond let it go without resistance. He knew it was a bad idea but he couldn't seem to stop himself.  
  
The taller gang-leader leaned down and kissed Dallas deeply. Gently, he let himself down, so that he was pressing the younger boy between himself and the bed. He paused, listening to Dally's harsh breathing, trying to figure out if it was okay to push a little farther.  
  
Dally stared up at the ceiling, feeling as if his brain was being pulled apart. Part of him (a very significant part) was very, very happy that what was happening was happening. Freedom, happiness, release, all the good stuff, it was shouting at him. Another part was screaming in terror at being pinned down to the bed. Mini-shoulder-demon one, and mini-shoulder- demon two, he thought wildly. As usual. But what was really bothering him was that another little voice had joined in with the screaming and shouting and hollering and badgering and mischiefing. A happy little, non-screaming angel voice, which he couldn't remember ever having. This was the part of him that was making his eyes water and his heart pound and his arms ache to grab Tim, in no sexual place in particular. This was the same part that seemed to have jolted his energy creating part of him into overdrive and it was making it almost impossible for Dally not to smile. He felt like he was hitting a meltdown.  
  
Tim changed positions and pulled the blond into his lap, pressing Dally's naked chest into his own body. He ran his hands over Dally's back and kissed the blond gently. He was a little worried. For several minutes Dally had only lain there under him, his eyes flicking madly back and forth, his head inclined as if straining to hear something, and his mouth half open, and half smiling. He looked fully insane. Tim kissed his forehead, and hugged him, feeling like he was trying to comfort the blond, something he'd never tried to do before.  
  
Dally couldn't help but give in to this. Tim's body was so warm and comfortable, and his arms were so strong...a little too strong in fact. Dally was suddenly very conscious of how unprotected he was. Mini-shoulder- demon two screamed in agreement. Tim could probably have done whatever he wanted. 'Shut up,' said the angel voice. 'Tim wouldn't do that.' Then there was the nagging feeling that if Tim didn't try anything, Dallas would bring it on himself (demon one), and suddenly, sitting there in Tim's arms was a little too comfortable, and a little too warm (demon two again). Slowly, almost shyly, he detached himself again from Tim.  
  
Tim sighed and rolled his eyes, but he was smiling too, much to Dally's relief. "One day, I'm gonna make you crack, Winston," he said grinning.  
  
Dally smiled back, a little dopey, having had gotten fed up and shutting off his brain. "Sure," he said sleepily.  
  
Tim flopped back on the bed, the heat and the dark making him tired too. He let his eyes close and his mind drift. He was almost asleep when he was suddenly jolted awake by the feeling of Dally against his side. The younger boy was half curled against his side, his eyes closed and his forehead pressed against Tim's shoulder. Tim rolled his eyes. Every time he thought he had Dally figured out...he slipped his arm around Dallas and pulled the blond to him. Dallas was acting so different than when he knew him before. Strangely, he enjoyed the softer side of Dallas. It made him feel special, knowing that no one else knew Dallas the way he did.  
  
A/N: Be warned. Ten very bad sentences ahead.  
  
He woke up to Dally's screaming. The room was pitch black, and his body was heavy with sleep but he groped through the covered and found Dally's body anyway.  
  
"Get off, get off me!" Dally shouted, his voice half choked from tiredness.  
  
"Calm down, Dallas, it was only a dream," Tim whispered, secretly alarmed.  
  
"No, no it wasn't." Dally was quieter suddenly. Tim could feel his body quiver with every shaky breath. "It was a memory." 


	16. Chapter 16

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 16  
  
A/N: OKAY, OKAY quite biting my head off! The damned chapter's here already. The chapter is a little long I think...but I hope it's interesting. And I'm very, very sorry it took so long to put this up. It's all the fault of school. You see how very, very bad it is?  
  
To Recap: Lol, I kinda forgot myself. Dally and Tim together, Dally a little hesitant, Tim very much wanting Dally. Two-Bit and Angela walked in on them kissing, Angela doesn't talk to them yet, Two-Bit's being a bitch to Dallas. The rest of the gang don't know nothin' (except Soda, who is God, and therefore knows all). Dally went to Tim's, and fell asleep beside him (in his bed! In his bed! Lol.) and now is the next morning:  
  
The next morning Dallas woke up early. Too early for him. The sun was bright in his eyes, which was strange - the tiny window in his room usually didn't pick up that much natural light.  
  
"Turn it down," he groaned to himself.  
  
"Sorry, the towel fell off."  
  
Dally bolted upright. Who the hell was in his room?  
  
He looked around blearily, and realised with a start that he wasn't in his own room. He wasn't even in his own house.  
  
"Mornin' sunshine," Tim smirked. He was dressed, shaved and showered, looking well rested.  
  
Dally rubbed his eyes. He couldn't remember for the life of him why he was in Tim's room. "What time is it?" he mumbled.  
  
"'Round 6."  
  
"6?! In the morning?" Dally groaned again.  
  
"Sorry, had ta wake ya up before my ma - before someone comes in here an' seen you in my bed." Tim swept his eyes over Dally's dishevelled appearance. Even with his clothes all rumpled and a sever case of bed-hair, he was still attractive. "You slept well though. Very well, if I remember correctly. So well you woke me up."  
  
Dally stared. "I have no clue what the hell that means," he said finally.  
  
Tim tossed a fresh towel at the blond. "It means you gotta get up an' take a shower, and you'll be borrowin' a pair of underwear."  
  
Dally clapped a hand over his mouth, horrified. "I didn't!" 'Every goddamned night,' he thought angrily.  
  
"Proven a kid once again," Tim teased. "Though it was kinda flattering, wakin' up to my own name bein' said like that."  
  
Dally buried his head in the towel. He would have been embarrassed if he'd been caught dreaming by anyone - but he'd at least be able to look at them and tell them to shut up. Tim seemed to have an uncanny knack for making him feel doubly embarrassed.  
  
"I must be one hell of a dream-lay." Tim's tone changed. "Maybe you could tell me about it."  
  
'Fat chance,' Dallas thought. He already wanted to crawl into a very small space and never look Tim in the face again. So absorbed in burying himself in the towel was he, that he almost jumped out of his skin when Tim touched his shoulder.  
  
"You had a different dream last night too," Tim said, trying to sound casual. "You remember at all?"  
  
Dally's brow furrowed and he looked up. Tim was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring absently at the wall. "What the hell are you talking about now?"  
  
Tim looked at Dallas quickly. "You don't remember?"  
  
Dally shook his head. The only dream he could remember was the one Tim had been teasing him about. "Why? What did I do?"  
  
Tim shook his head and stood up. "Never mind. Go take your shower."  
  
Tim's bathroom was much larger than his own, and looked and smelled nicer. The water was hot and refreshing. 'Bet Tim's water never quit on him in the middle of a shower,' Dally thought. The water was doing him good, washing off the grime as well as his embarrassment. Dally's lips curled into a smile. Maybe he would tell Tim about the dream after all.  
  
Tim stared at the ceiling, listening to the water pour down in the room beside his. He had a severe urge to 'accidentally' walk in on Dally taking a shower - but it would be way too obvious. Still, he reasoned, it wasn't really fair that Dallas had seen him and he'd never seen the blond naked.  
  
Dally stepped out of the shower, feeling warm and refreshed and altogether much better than when he'd first woken up. He stepped out of the shower and towelled off - then realised that Tim had forgotten to give him the spare change of underwear. "Oh well," he smirked to himself. He'd never liked wearing it anyway. Too stifling, and Lord knows that Dallas Winston hates to be confined.  
  
He slipped back into Tim's room and tossed his own dirty clothes into a basket by Tim's bed. Tim was altogether far too neat, he decided, remembering the various piles of clothes in his room. Tim at least, had a closet, and a basket for dirty laundry.  
  
"Nice shower?"  
  
"Very nice," Dally agreed.  
  
Tim slid off the bed and sauntered towards Dallas. He pulled the blond close and gently kissed him. "So about that dream," he murmured.  
  
Dally said nothing. Half of him wanted to laugh at the situation he was in - he'd never felt more like a girl. The other half of him wanted to jump Tim. He kissed him back, rougher than Tim had.  
  
Tim smiled against Dally's lips. There couldn't be anything more than he wanted right now. Except, he thought with a groan, a place of his own. Someone was coming up to stairs. Reluctantly he pulled back from Dallas. "Someone's coming."  
  
Dally crossed the room quickly and dropped down into a chair in the corner of Tim's room. Tim flopped down on the bed, winked at Dally, and said loudly: "So what brings you here so early in the mornin'?"  
  
Dallas rolled his eyes. "I can't teleport while I'm sleepin'," he whispered back, then raised his voice and said: "Woke up early, thought I'd pop by an' see what you was up to, is all."  
  
The door opened without a knock and Mrs. Shepard stepped quickly into her son's room. She paused, startled, seeing Dallas. Then she rounded on Tim. "What are you doin' already up?"  
  
Tim shrugged. "Dally came over, ma. Woke me up."  
  
'Lying bastard,' Dally thought with an inward smile.  
  
"Dally?" Mrs. Shepard frowned. "Sounds familiar."  
  
"He was over a couple days ago. Left his jacket. You need anythin'?" Tim said in a rush. There was something about his mother meeting Dally was making him uncomfortable.  
  
"Dallas Winston," Dally said smoothly, standing up and holding out his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Shepard." He gave her his most winning smile. For some reason he wanted to impress her.  
  
Tim's mother took Dally's hand, looking suspicious. She'd met a few of her children's friends before, and only the boys who'd tried to date Angela had been so polite. "You're friends with Tim?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, great friends. Look, if you don't need anything, we're gonna go okay?" Tim stood up quickly and tossed Dally his jacket.  
  
"We've been friends for about 3 years," Dally said, making no move to leave. "Ever since I moved here from New York."  
  
Mrs. Shepard brightened. "New York? Why, I've got me a sister living up there in the north. Used to visit her up there. You lived there long?"  
  
Dally nodded. "I've lived all around the place," he lied. He'd lived in two places in New York as far as he could remember, and one of them had been the street.  
  
"Uh, Dallas? Let's go. See ya later, ma," Tim picked up his own jacket and walked towards the door. His mother and Dallas ignored him.  
  
"You musta been to the Met then!" Mrs. Shepard said eagerly. "Now I never had a chance, but I heard it was wonderful."  
  
Dally froze. Did she mean metro.the subway?  
  
"Not seen much by way of museums down here," she added.  
  
"Oh! The Met. Right. Uh, yeah been a couple times. Was nice. Yeah, New York's a great place for culture." He was lying through his teeth. He had no clue where the Met was. But he was sure there was a lot of culture in New York. He hadn't spent his whole life on the rough side - and even there, he'd seen more musicians than he could remember playing on street corners.  
  
Tim's jaw dropped. He'd never once heard Dallas even say the word culture. Who the hell did he think he was fooling? "We have to go," he said loudly.  
  
"Well, I think my son is anxious to go. You come by for dinner sometime Dallas, will you? I'd love to hear more about New York."  
  
"I'd love to tell you about it," Dallas replied smiling. Behind his mother, Tim had a small fit.  
  
"Such a nice young man," his mother murmured brightly and slid out the door. Maybe he son wasn't in as much trouble as she thought he was.  
  
Tim stared for a minute at the "young man" he thought he knew so well. "Well, come on smarmy, lets get lost," he said finally.  
  
Dally grinned. "I think she likes me."  
  
"Who cares?" Tim gripped, pulling the blond fast down the stairs and out the door. "God I never knew you could suck up so bad."  
  
Dally shrugged. "I gotta make a good impression on your folks. Though I gotta admit, I think your dad will be harder to crack-"  
  
"Aw shut up." Tim paused. "Well, if you're so all fired about meeting parents maybe I oughtta meet your folks huh?"  
  
"No way!" Dally yelped. "No fucking way!"  
  
"How come I don't get to meet your folks?" Tim teased. "Bet your momma'd like me too."  
  
Dally snorted. "Yeah right. She didn't even like me."  
  
Tim shrugged. "Nah, I bet she does, but greaser mothers ain't always so lovin' you know that. Hell, my ma just acted more lovin' to you than she does to me. So I bet your ma really would like me."  
  
"Well good then. If you can find her, you can meet her. Oh and let me know where she is when you do, will ya?" Dally said sarcastically.  
  
They walked in silence for awhile. Dally glanced sideways at Tim, aware he'd just ruined the nice mood they'd had. He cleared his throat. "Well, you could always offer a bottle of booze to my dad, and I'm sure he'd love ya."  
  
Tim snorted. "Yeah mine too." The mood was heavier than ever.  
  
They'd walked halfway back to Dally's place before he couldn't take it anymore. "You just came outta the bath and you weren't wearin' anything. Just like when you caught me comin' over early," Dally said suddenly.  
  
Tim looked over, surprised. "What?"  
  
"I said you weren't wearin' anything. An' you were all wet from the bath. Just like that time, remember? Except this time, I wasn't wearin' nothing either."  
  
"I have no idea what you're talkin' about," Tim said slowly.  
  
Dally gave Tim a Look. "The dream. Anyway, we didn't fuck, I told ya I didn't like the idea of that anyway. But we was kissin' an awful lot and then you....went...down."  
  
Tim smirked. "Yeah, an' I bet I know what I was doing when I...went....down."  
  
Dallas blushed but barrelled on. He was tired of being embarrassed. "Yeah well, you were awful good at it. I mean, I don't know exactly what you was doing, but it was, well, GOOD."  
  
Tim slung an arm around Dally's shoulders. "I AM good at it. An' I'd prove it if you let me."  
  
Dally squirmed. A lot of blood had suddenly rushed between his legs. He wished he could just turn off his brain and let Tim prove it. "Soon," he said, more to himself. "Real soon."  
  
"All right. But just to make sure it's 'real soon' - I'm tellin' ya I'd make it better than anyone else who'd done it to ya."  
  
Dally smiled blandly. 'It wouldn't be that hard to do - considerin' you'd be the first,' he thought. He'd never dated a girl long enough to ask for that. Sex he'd had (much too early, if he was honest about it), but there were some things that girls didn't like to do so often, especially if you were an asshole fling, which he always was. "Where we going?" he asked suddenly. They were almost at his apartment - and he'd be damned if he ever went there for any reason except sleeping or getting his stuff.  
  
Tim shrugged. "I was following you."  
  
Dally turned into the diner, more out of habit than anything else. He pushed Tim's arm off his shoulder and opened the door to the still deserted place. He glanced at the clock: "Seven am. You hungry yet?"  
  
"Damn straight I'm hungry." Tim crossed his arms. He knew why Dallas had pushed him away and he wasn't about to argue. Still, he wished he hadn't done it.  
  
Dally slid into a booth feeling weird. He never sat in a booth, but then he was usually alone. He usually sat at the counter where Ernie and Archie were. He froze suddenly. The two men were staring openly at Tim. Ernie's mouth had dropped open. Archie was stroking his chin, looking thoughtful. Dally's brow furrowed. They didn't have to stare like that. But Tim didn't seem to notice. Dally looked up again, and was startled to see that Ernie was looking back. The old man grinned at the blond and flashed the thumbs up sign at him. Archie was laughing silently.  
  
"Hey, nice place," Tim slid into the seat across from Dallas. He looked around. "Pretty deserted though. Come here often?"  
  
"Uh, yeah." Archie was writing something swiftly on a napkin. He held it up for Dally's approval, smiling encouragingly. Neat letters spelled the words: "Go get him, boy."  
  
The waitress appeared out of no where. She gave Dally a tight lipped smile, then ignored him and grinned at Tim. "Can I get you anything?" she asked in a sing-song voice.  
  
"Yes, two coffees and uh, a couple of breakfast specials." Tim looked at Dally for approval but the blond said nothing.  
  
"Coming right up," the waitress giggled. She leaned over Tim. "So where ya from stranger?"  
  
Tim looked quickly at Dallas. The waitress was obviously flirting with him, but Dallas had no reaction. His gaze was fixed somewhere in the space over Tim's left shoulder.  
  
Ernie had taken the pen from Archie and was scribbling madly, giggling like a little girl. He held the napkin up, grinning wickedly. Over the words "Go get him" he'd drawn the rudest, and most graphic picture complete with speech bubbles detailing how much Dallas would be enjoying it. He'd crossed out the word "boy" and replaced it with (in crooked block letters), the word "homo".  
  
Dally could feel himself blushing pink. He wanted to go over and punch Ernie in the teeth (or what was left of them). He looked away. Ernie was an old man. And in spite of the rudeness, he did feel more encouraged than insulted.  
  
The waitress had left finally. "You okay?" Tim asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Yeah..." Dally smiled, glad Tim couldn't see what he could.  
  
"You sure those old gays in the corner ain't bugging you?" Tim asked nonchalantly.  
  
Dally looked up surprised. "How did you....?"  
  
Tim rolled his eyes. "It's very obvious. I can tell in most people anyway. But those guys....well anyone could see it."  
  
Dally looked at him alarmed. "You can tell in anyone?"  
  
Tim smirked. "Yeah, a lot of people can you know."  
  
"Am I obvious?" Dally asked, trying to sound casual.  
  
Tim smiled. "No, not at all," he said reassuringly. "If you ask a straight guy," he added under his breath. Any gay in the world could have been able to tell that Dallas like boys. Except, of course, for the blond himself.  
  
Dally relaxed and smiled at Tim. "That's good."  
  
"Two coffees." The waitress winked at Tim. "But I'd watch out if I were you. This one has a tendency to toss it all over himself." She hurried away, Dallas scowling at her back.  
  
Tim chuckled to himself. "I see you're well respected this side of town."  
  
"Shut up," Dally gripped. He paused. There was a question burning in the back of his mind, but his conscience was keeping him from asking it. 'Oh wait,' he laughed to himself. 'I don't have a conscience.' "So," he said out loud. "You know the guys I hang out with?"  
  
Tim looked up from his coffee and smiled slowly. "Yes? What about them?"  
  
Dally fiddled with his cup. "Are any of them....? You know."  
  
Tim set his cup down. "That depends. Are you gonna run off to be with any of them if they are?"  
  
Dally snorted. "No."  
  
"Well in that case. You know the big, tough guy?"  
  
"Darry?" Dally's jaw dropped.  
  
"Yeah. He's not gay." Tim laughed. "Almost had you going there. Well, as far as I can tell, he's practically asexual."  
  
Dally smirked, and nodded. Darry was so absorbed in school and football, he barely had time for dating.  
  
"Then there's that quiet Curtis." Tim scratched his head. "Still can't figure him out. But he's young then."  
  
"Yeah, only 13," Dally agreed.  
  
"Hell, I wasn't a virgin at 13." Tim took a gulp of coffee. "Or at least, I wasn't half way through. Anyway, I don't really know 'em enough to make any guesses."  
  
Dally nodded, picking up his own coffee.  
  
"Except for one..."  
  
Dally raised his eyebrows at Tim over the rim of his cup.  
  
Tim smiled. "Hell, you probably knew already. I mean, it's just a guess really. But I kinda got the vibe from him."  
  
"Who?"  
  
Tim quirked an eyebrow. "Matthews. Two-Bit Matthews. He's a fag if I've ever seen one."  
  
Dally's cup shattered on the table. 


	17. Chapter 17

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 17  
  
A/N: Okay people. I'm updating finally. Come on all you high schooling peeps! Give me a break!! School is hard, and takes up much time.  
  
P.S. Okay, the stupid old men in this story are really starting to irritate me. And yet they're still here.  
  
To Recap: Dally and Tim together, sort of a morning date at the diner where Dally goes (with the old men). Tim just told Dally that Two-Bit's gay.  
  
"Dallas? Speak to me man." Tim shoved Dally's shoulder. "Come on, Dallas. It ain't that big a deal."  
  
Dally shook his head. "If it were true, it'd be a huge deal," he said faintly.  
  
Tim frowned. "It is true."  
  
Dally waved a hand dismissively. "Nope. Don't believe it."  
  
"I'm telling you it's the truth," Tim insisted.  
  
"Nope. Look, you don't know Two-Bit the way I do."  
  
Tim flushed. "Well, just how well do you know him huh?"  
  
Dally pressed a wad of paper napkins into the spilled coffee. "Look you weren't there when he yelled at me last week. And he's been an asshole ever since he found out...you shoulda heard him - 'you think you're so tough, you think you're a man-'"  
  
"Maybe he's in denial," Tim said thoughtfully.  
  
"Tim! He's not gay," Dally said, exasperated. "I saw him with Angela man-" Dallas fell silent.  
  
"What the hell did you just say," Tim said in a deadly whisper.  
  
Dally pushed the soggy mess of napkins into the centre of the table. "Nothing."  
  
"Damn it Dallas, if you're in fuckin' denial about everything then that's your problem."  
  
Dally looked up surprised. "I'm not-"  
  
"Don't you go bringing my sister into this." Tim stood quickly. "Listen I gotta go."  
  
Dally stared up at him. "Where?"  
  
Tim shrugged. "Around."  
  
"Well....see you tonight then?"  
  
Tim shook his head. "Naw, I've got stuff to do."  
  
Dally blinked. "What?" Tim never had anything to do at night. Well, nothing except try to grope Dallas.  
  
"I said I got stuff to do. Gang stuff. They've been on my case 'bout me not being there no more. I gotta meet them tonight."  
  
"You have to? I mean, go." Dally looked back at the napkins. He felt inexplicably lost at the idea that he wouldn't be seeing Tim for the entire day. He shook it off. He was just used to spending nights with Tim that was all.  
  
"Well, see you," Tim adjusted his jacket and headed for the door. Dally watched him go, frowning. He had the feeling he'd just done something to really piss Tim off, but he had no clue what.  
  
Sodapop had just realised that it was 7:15, and he was due at school in 15 minutes.  
  
"Holy crap!!!" He bolted out of the door and flew down the steps to Darry's truck. His two brothers were just climbing in.  
  
"Hurry the fuck up kid!"  
  
"Darrel Curtis, you watch your mouth!"  
  
Darry cringed, a sight which had both his brothers rolling on the floor. "Yes mom."  
  
"Let's go!" Soda yelped.  
  
They hopped in the truck and drove quickly. They stopped at the elementary school first and Ponyboy hopped out, calling goodbye over his shoulder. Then they sped away to the high school.  
  
"Hurry, hurry, hurry," Sodapop chanted under his breath, his eyes glued to the clock. He had gym first and coach was liable to make him run laps if he was late again.  
  
"Hey, ain't that Tim?" Darry said suddenly, slowing the truck.  
  
Soda looked up in time to see Tim push his way out of a nearby diner, looking grumbly about something. He scanned the diner windows quickly and wasn't surprised to see Dally's blond head sticking up from a booth.  
  
"What's he doing 'round these parts? An' so early in the morning." Darry pulled the truck up beside the road.  
  
"Darry! We're gonna be late!" Soda said, exasperated.  
  
"You want a ride somewhere?" Darry called out, ignoring Soda.  
  
Tim looked up, surprised. Squinting in the bright morning light, he leaned forward. "Well, if it ain't Darrel Curtis. What's going on?"  
  
Darry shrugged. "Not much. Got school. You meet Sodapop before?"  
  
Tim turned his eyes to the football player's smaller companion. 'So this is Sodapop,' he thought amused. He recognised the boy's face as some vague character he'd once met.  
  
Soda nodded impatiently at Tim. "You want a ride or not? We gotta get to school."  
  
Tim didn't answer. He could understand how Dallas might be worried about him going off with Soda. The kid sure was a knockout. Bit young and happy looking for his taste though. Sodapop might make for a good lay or something, but on the whole, Tim was looking for something more challenging then some impressionable kid. Someone a little tougher, a little older. Someone with various repressed emotions and a temper that sprung up like wildfire. Someone undeniably sexy in a fiery, hard-as-nails way..He realised he was getting a little off base. "Nah, I don't need a ride. You get going."  
  
Soda grinned in relief, and Tim noted again that the youth was sure to grow up sexy. "Goose it, Darry!" (Author's Note: This term brought to you by parents of the previous century. 'Goose it' - lol.)  
  
Dally glanced at the clock. 7:30 am. No wonder he was so tired. His eyes crept across the diner to where Ernie and Archie were muttering to each other. Dally sighed. He was bored out of his mind, but too tired to think about anything. He picked up his coffee and sauntered over to where the two old men were sitting.  
  
"Hey, what's new with yall," he said, sitting down heavily beside them.  
  
Archie eyed him suspiciously, but Ernie clamped a hand on his back. "Well finally," he laughed, gruffly. "Took you long enough to come over here."  
  
"Careful Ern, you'll scare the kid away again," Archie warned.  
  
Ernie snorted. "Well, what's troubling you, kid," he said to Dallas.  
  
Dally stared at him blankly. "Troubling me?"  
  
Archie nodded. "You look like you're in a fix."  
  
Dally shook his head, feeling confused. "Nah, nothing's wrong." Stupid old men, he thought.  
  
Archie didn't seem to hear him. "Girl trouble?"  
  
Dally choked on his coffee. "Bite me."  
  
Ernie chuckled. "Ah, the im-"  
  
"'-petuousness of youth' yeah, yeah," Dally rolled his eyes. He'd heard that phrase more times than he could count.  
  
Archie cleared his throat. "So, this new young man you brought in," he said sternly, giving Dally a severe look.  
  
"What about him," Dally said quickly.  
  
Both old men suddenly looked very stern. Leaning back against the counter, the serious look still on his face, Archie said: "You know about safe sex?"  
  
Dally felt his mouth drop open. "I - but-"  
  
"You're lucky there's no chance of pregnancy," Ernie said, with equal amounts of sternness.  
  
Now Dallas had gotten over his initial shock. He could feel himself blush, even as he willed himself to not care.  
  
"I know, okay?" he said quickly.  
  
"Maybe you know of the precautions necessary for sex with a woman, but what about with a man?" He'd never seen Ernie look as dead serious as he did now.  
  
"I...I..."  
  
"The first thing you should know is that lubricant is necessary during intercourse, especially if it's your first time. There's a lot of sensitive tissue that can be painfully torn during anal penetration-"  
  
"O-o-okay!!!" Dally stood up quickly. "That's really...great but it doesn't matter. No, no!" He held up his hands quickly, as Ernie frowned and opened his mouth. "I mean, I don't plan on having, um, yeah, anytime soon. Or ever." There was something furiously embarrassing about trying to say the word 'sex' in front of two old men.  
  
Both men exchanged looks, eyebrows raised. "And what does your young man think about this?" Archie asked slowly.  
  
"He doesn't care. And he's not my 'young man'," Dally said through gritted teeth. He glanced longingly at the door, wishing could just walk up and leave. Still, he stayed. He didn't want to insult them - they were the only other people besides himself and Tim that he knew to ask questions about what he was dealing with, and he didn't want to piss them off.  
  
Ernie gave Dallas a disbelieving look. "So you're telling me he doesn't actually want to have intercourse with you."  
  
Strangely, Dallas felt a somewhat immature urge to giggle at the word 'intercourse'. How could such a technical term sound so much dirtier than the word 'sex'?  
  
"It doesn't matter what he wants..." Dallas trailed off, noting the surprised looks on both the men's faces.  
  
"Well, alright fair enough," Archie said quickly. "And you're not interested in the prospect of sex at all?"  
  
Ernie snorted. "At 16? Why I remember when I was that age. Full of thoughts and urges and-"  
  
"Ahhhhhookay, okay, okay! I've gotta go. I've...got school. Heh, heh. Hahahaokay, bye." Dally tore out of the diner without once looking back.  
  
"Thank God," he breathed, feeling a breeze cool his hot cheeks. One more second with those men...he shuddered. Adults should never talk about sex, especially when dealing with 'urges'.  
  
He heard the doorbell tinkle behind him.  
  
'Oh, no.' he thought despairingly.  
  
"Thought you might like a ride down to school," he heard Archie's voice say cheerfully. "Will Rogers is it? Come on boy." 


	18. Chapter 18

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 18  
  
A/N: Okay, no I haven't dropped off the face of the Earth. I blame school. Anyway, this chapter really stinks, but hopefully I'm going to be able to figure our a way of updating like, at least every two weeks or something. Really sorry yall.  
  
Dallas hadn't been in class for 3 months. If he'd had it his way, he wouldn't have been at school in 3 years, but he'd rather show up at the few classes and exams that he did than have to explain to social services why he "thought he was above the state law".  
  
It wasn't that he was stupid. It wasn't even that he wasn't interested. Sometimes sitting in a chemistry or English or physics class he would actually be interested in what the teacher was saying (very rarely and it usually had something to do with sex). But there was just no point. The way he saw things, school was just going to take up his time, and remind him of things that he couldn't do. He couldn't go to college anyway. No greaser he knew of had ever ended up an astrophysicist (not that he'd want to be something as lame as that). He had more important things to worry about, like food, or money, or a roof over his head, without the added stress of weekly tests on geometric and arithmetic sequences (a/n: math will die).  
  
" 'S' to the subscript 'n' equals the annuity times the ratio minus 1, divided by the ratio minus 1 which equals the sum of a certain amount of money invested at a semi-annually compounded interest rate of 9% per annum..."  
  
(A/N: I swear to God I did not make any of that up. Damn, grade 11 U- Math!!!!)  
  
'La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la.' Dally slowly scratched a dirty word into the paint on the desk. The pen made a nice crunching sound as it dug into the cheap wood.  
  
Instantly he found himself being sent to the principal who told him to sit in the hall until he'd learned his lesson (the cute secretary told him confidentially that this was when the bell rang for next class). Within seconds, a nearby classroom door crashed open and Sodapop was thrust out the door.  
  
"That was not funny, Mr. Curtis! I hope this most current sojourn to the hallway will remind you to give its due respect to the word 'flagellate'."  
  
The teacher left swiftly, and Sodapop was left staring openly at Dallas. "What the fuck are you doing here?" he mouthed.  
  
Dally shrugged. "Dunno," he said out loud. He stood up. A quick glance down the hall confirmed they were alone. "Wanna skip?" he mouthed silently. He couldn't have cared less if he got caught, but Soda might have.  
  
The two boys made their way quickly down the hall. Once they passed the principal's office, Soda raced through the foyer and out the door, Dally jogging after him.  
  
"Freedom! At last!" Soda yelped, turning a cartwheel down the sidewalk. Dally lit a cigarette, casting a contemptuous look at the school building behind him. "Hate that place."  
  
"Then why d'ya go?" Soda asked. "You're 16. If I was 16, I'd drop out in a second, I would."  
  
Dally grinned; he'd almost forgotten that he'd had a birthday. "You think your momma'd let you drop out kid?"  
  
Soda scowled. "Naw. But who says I gotta tell her huh? An' don't call me kid, couple a days ago you weren't any older n' me." He reached over and plucked the smoke from Dally's fingers, sticking it between his lips. Dally chuckled to himself, then he gave Soda a punch on the shoulder. "That's for stealin' my weed, ki- Soda."  
  
Soda grinned back at Dally. For once he felt like he was actually getting someone with the tow headed teen, somewhere that wasn't being kicked in the ass. Maybe Dally was in a good mood. Maybe now would be the time to ask him..."Dal, can I ask you a question?" he said cautiously.  
  
"No," Dally said flatly. "Whenever someone says that it's always a question you don't want to answer."  
  
The two walked on in silence for about 2 minutes. Soda burst out - "Dally, if I don't ask you, then I'm gonna have to ask Tim, cause I don't know how long I can go only guessing at what's goin' on."  
  
Dally reached over and grasped Sodapop roughly by his short. He hauled the younger boy off the sidewalk and pushed him against a tree. "What do you know?" he rasped.  
  
"Nothing!" Soda's eyes were wide. "I mean.....well I've only guessed so far -"  
  
"What." Blood pounded in his ears. "What have you guessed."  
  
Soda shrugged. "You know, what you...who you.....might be, well, you know, doing."  
  
Dally swore silently. "And that would be?"  
  
Soda sighed gustily. "You know who I mean. What you're doing with Tim. Look Dally, it's no big deal -"  
  
"Damn straight! And it ain't none of you business either!" Dally yelled, shoving Soda hard. "Who else you told about this, huh?"  
  
"No one!" Soda said quickly.  
  
"Yeah, well you make sure it stays that way. You keep your mouth shut ya hear?"  
  
"I won't! I swear it!" Dally let Soda go. He wondered if he should give the kid a pounding, just to make sure he didn't let it slip to anyone else. He shook his head to himself. Soda seemed true enough to his word. He turned to leave.  
  
"You just keep your mouth shut too you know what I mean?" Soda muttered.  
  
The next second Dally was chasing him down the empty sidewalk. He caught up to him at the lot beside Soda's home, and took him down with an easy tackle.  
  
"What the fuck did you say!"  
  
"I'm sorry! It was just a joke!" Soda yelped.  
  
"I oughtta bash your teeth in!"  
  
"Why? I ain't said it was bad or anything. I just wanted to know if it were true!"  
  
Dally growled and rolled off the younger boy. "How the hell did you find out anyway?" he grumbled.  
  
"I just guessed," Soda said exasperated.  
  
Dally was quiet. "So I'm that obvious huh?"  
  
Soda rolled his eyes. "Noooo. But I'm a genius you know?"  
  
Dally snorted  
  
Soda lifted his chin and looked down his slender nose at Dally, with a look of mock superiority. "It's true. No one else would have been able to figure it out."  
  
Dally cracked a grin. "Yeah, right." He cleared his throat. "Well, yeah it is true," he said softly.  
  
"That I'm a genius?"  
  
"No you chucklehead," Dally said irritably. "About...you know."  
  
"Oh. Well. Great. You two are um, cute together."  
  
Dally barely suppressed a shout of laughter. "Go fuck yourself Sodapop."  
  
"I may as well," Soda said gloomily. "Sandy ain't puttin' out." He suddenly perked up. "Hey, if you're both, you know, guys, then you probably have sex more right? Cause there's no one there to say no, you know? No girl."  
  
Dally winced. Soda didn't know it, but he'd just implied that Dally was the girl of the relationship, something he was trying to pretend wasn't true. "Yeah sure, loads of sex."  
  
"But..which one of you.I mean, how does that work?" Soda asked shyly.  
  
Dally glared at the younger boy. "I meant it, this ain't none of your business," he snapped. "If you wanna know so bad, then go fuck some guy and find out."  
  
"Oh yeah?" Soda gave Dally what was clearly supposed to be a "come hither" look. "You willing?" he asked breathily.  
  
His face bright red Dally smacked a laughing Soda across his head. "Shut up you stupid kid."  
  
"Oww," Soda frowned at Dally, rubbing his head. "That hurt."  
  
"Yeah I know. My bite's just a rough as my bark, kid," Dally lit another cigarette, and propped his elbows up on his knees.  
  
Soda got to his feet, dusting himself off. "Really?" he said wickedly. "Then I gotta tell ya, I fear for Tim's dick." He bolted down the street before Dally could even fully take in what he'd said. 


	19. Chapter 19

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 19  
  
A/N: Er.....Sorry. Really can't say much else. I try to update. Doesn't work.  
  
WARNING! CONTAINS AMOUNTS OF THE "F" WORD THAT RIVALS "GOOD WILL HUNTING". BTW, EXCELLENT MOVIE, Y'ALL SHOULD SEE IT. IF YOU'RE OLDER THAN 14 THAT IS.  
  
"Hey! Shepard!"  
  
Tim raised a hand in solemn greeting. The pack of boys moved off the alley wall and crowded around him.  
  
"Good ta see ya man! Good ta see ya!" A gap-toothed young man grinned at Tim.  
  
"Ain't seen ya round much," growled another.  
  
"Yeah, you ain't running off on us are ya?" Donny, stepped out of the gang, eyebrows raised, a vicious smirk on his face.  
  
"Where ya been lately, anyway, Shepard?" drawled someone else.  
  
Tim ignored the comments and pushed his way to the back of the alley. He walked slowly, but the gang stayed behind him, muttering and rustling as they followed. When he hit the back of the alley, he leaned on it, turning to face the others.  
  
"What's this I hear 'bout a Socie jumpin' one of us?" he asked softly, his voice barely louder than a whisper. They all heard him; the gang was silent now.  
  
"It's like this, boss. This stupid kid Davies was walkin' along the edge of our territory, when a couple of Socie's pulled alongside an' told him he was in der territory. So he says, 'am not', as he wuzn't -"  
  
Tim lit a cigarette, his eyes barely glancing at the man's face as he talked. The key to looking like he was their born leader come down from heaven (or up from hell) was looking disinterested while staying alert. This way, anything he said seemed effortlessly brilliant. Now was not the time to be one of the guys – not when they could be questioning his leadership. There were only two ways he'd ever heard of someone leaving a leadership position of a gang – either they died on the job, or their own gang killed them. Tim was gonna wait a couple of years before he was sent 6 feet under if he had anything to say about it.  
  
Dally layed back in the grass, revelling in the warm air and sunshine [A/N: Here in Toronto, we've just hit our second winter. Sigh, that Canada.] He grinned considering Soda's joke. The possibility of him giving Tim head was slim right now but..........fantasy was intriguing. He could just picture Tim's face, all flushed and sweaty, panting for air......  
  
"Hey Winston! Keep it in your pants – I ain't gone yet." Dally's eyes snapped open and he realised with a start that his hand was inching under the waistband of his jeans. He sat up quickly, folding his hands across his lap. Sodapop flopped down on the grass beside him, and handed him a Pepsi. "Here, that might cool you off," he said dryly. "Jacking off in a public place might not be such a genius idea, pal."  
  
Dally squirmed a little. "Quit trying to turn me on." He growled and took a swig from his Pepsi.  
  
The two boys fell silent, enjoying the faint noise of a car passing or dog howling, the lazy humming of cicadas, the smell of grass, the other kind of grass, and hot cement, and the taste of warm, sweet, tooth-rotting pop [er..........'soda' for those living in the southern states].  
  
"So you ain't getting' any either," Soda said suddenly.  
  
Dally looked up startled. "Why the hell....?"  
  
"I tell one little joke about blow-jobs and I find you masturbating in the middle of an open field -"  
  
"Was not!" Dally yelped.  
  
"How old are you now? 16 was it?" Soda teased. "Don't you think the hand shoulda come off your cock a week ago at least?"  
  
"You little -"  
  
"You still have wet dreams too?"  
  
Dally flushed. "Shut up. You ain't no different."  
  
Soda grinned. "Well, as you and Darry and the rest of this fucking world keeps pointing out, I'm still 15 for another measly month and a half, so guess who gets to indulge in a bit of childish indiscretion?"  
  
"Not fair," Dally said sulkily.  
  
"Ahh, the solitary vice," Soda said dreamily.  
  
"Where you getting this crap from," Dally said irritated.  
  
"Sandy," Soda beamed. "She was cussin' me out before cause I was pushing for sex."  
  
"Sex. Yeah. An' what do I get? Some guy's dick up my ass? That sucks man." Dally sighed.  
  
"Well hey that's your choice right? You could go be with a woman.........."  
  
Dally rolled his eyes. "It's not that simple."  
  
"Oh no?" Soda turned his blue eyes on Dally. "Look Dallas if you don't like gay fucking then doesn't that mean you're straight?"  
  
Dally was speechless.  
  
Soda cocked his head to the side. "Dallas?"  
  
"Who said I don't like gay fucking?" Dally sputtered.  
  
"You did," Soda said impatiently. "Just now."  
  
"I........but the last time I tried to do a girl I........."  
  
"You?" Soda's eyes sparked with curiosity.  
  
Dally flushed. "I couldn't.........y'know......get..........up -"  
  
"You?" Soda gasped again. "The great Dallas 'Do 'em an' run' Winston? El womanizer?" He burst out laughing.  
  
"Shut up," Dally snapped. "You're the womanizer. An' see if I ever tell you anything again." He turned away, his arms crossed.  
  
"Awwwwwww, I'm sowwy," Soda crooned. "I pwomise not to waugh any mowre."  
  
"Shut up."  
  
"But seriously, that happens to all guys right?"  
  
"Shut up."  
  
"What if you are straight?"  
  
"I'm NOT."  
  
"But you just said you don't want a dick up you're ass!" Soda said exasperated. "You ARE!"  
  
Dally paused.  
  
"I don't think you know what you want," Soda said finally.  
  
"I don't.........." Dally said gloomily. "Wait – I do!"  
  
Soda raised an eyebrow.  
  
"I know what I want," Dally said, brushing impatiently at his hair. "But it doesn't make sense."  
  
"What do you want?" Soda asked quietly.  
  
"I want, well, Tim," Dally said in a tiny voice. "But I don't like sex," he added in a rush. "Or other guys. Like you! I don't like you, even thought you're supposed to be, like, gorgeous."  
  
"You don't like me?" Soda said, hurt. "Everyone likes me." He paused. "Wait, did you just say you don't like sex ?!"  
  
"I like you, just not LIKE, y'know?" Dally sighed. "But when I see a hot girl........well that does something for me. But I can't fuck them."  
  
There was a short silence.  
  
"You're a freak, Dallas."  
  
"Wow, thanks."  
  
Soda put an arm around him. "But we love you anyway." They said for awhile until the end of class bell rang in the distance.  
  
"Get your fucking arm off of me, Curtis." 


	20. Chapter 20

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 20

A/N: What? Could it be? Am I ACTUALLY UPDATING?!

Nope, fooled ya.

Just kidding.

I AM!

Surprise people!

I'm gonna try and reform myself and update on a weekly basis...originally could not update because of excessive school work but, well, school has been eating my brain recently so I'm not as fond of it as before. Now HOMEWORK will wait for ME!!! Mwahahahahaha on with the story.

P.S. I use a couple really bad words in this chappie. BE WARNED.

To Recap: I hate writing these things. Dally and Tim sitting in a tree....K-I-S-S-I-N-G. Angela walks in, Two-Bit is ass, Soda guesses what's up, short visit to gay bar.....lalalalala. And here we are.

It had been three days since he'd last seen Tim. Dally wasn't sure what had happened between them but something he'd said had clearly upset Tim. He'd felt it, the change in air, but it really hadn't settled firmly in his mind until he'd knocked on the door two nights ago and Tim hadn't been home. Now he was feeling desperate and stupid and wasn't at all sure what to do. He couldn't remember ever missing someone's company so much before – so much that he'd considered stealing one of Tim's shirts just to be able to smell him. He spent countless hours going over the events of their last conversation in his head trying to figure out what had changed their relationship so drastically. He wavered between anger, nonchalance and (more irritatingly) hurt, and finally settled on a kind of helpless feeling that was both driving him insane and preventing him from caring too much. He tried to tell himself that it wasn't such a big deal, but the truth of it was that Dallas was feeling thoroughly abandoned, and for the first time in a very, very long time being left alone was beginning to eat him alive.

Tim groaned softly. He felt like his mouth was full of cotton balls. His head throbbed and his entire body ached. He sat up slowly, wincing as pain lanced through his side. He was in a lot, and not one that he recognized. The last thing he remembered was drinking too somewhere with the gang..........had he been in Soc territory?

He rubbed his jaw, swollen and unshaven, and grimaced at the horrible taste in his mouth. He spat, and blood appeared beside him.

"Shit," he mumbled. What the fuck had he been doing?

Tim staggered to his feet and looked blearily around. He had no clue where he was. It was midday; the sun beat down heavily on him, making him feel nauseous.

He limped to the edge of the lot and slowly began to walk down the sidewalk in search of anything recognizable – or at least a place to get a glass of water. He felt like a steam roller had run him down – even his hair hurt.

Flashes of the previous night (nights maybe? He couldn't remember) ran through his head as he walked, but they passed to quickly for him to fully grasp. He must have been in Soc territory..........that was right they were going to teach some guy a lesson...........they'd been drinking – and he'd been hanging out with the gang since he'd last seen Dallas.

"An' she was all like 'Steve, you tryin' to put the moves on me is getting' in the way of my being a bossy bitch with an attitude problem who wears no bra.' Fuckin' Women's Lib shit. I thought Evie was too smart for that."

"Steve, she's only tryin' to stand up for her rights," Soda said carelessly. "Sandy does the same thing. Just let her think you agree and that you're trying to reform yourself and then hey-" Sodapop winked and made a lewd gesture simulating a sex act. Steve laughed.

Dally stared gloomily at them through the wreckage of auto shop where they worked. He wished so badly he could join in on what they were saying. He'd never thought he'd actually miss anything about being straight other than not having to sneak around. But he hadn't realised that he'd feel so left out all the time. Guys his age talked about mighty few things. Eliminating pussy from his diet had suddenly cut his conversational material by at least 80 . He was now reduced to a few clever statements such as "Yeah her tits were rockin' man," and "The chick's a slut if I ever saw one."

"What's with the long face, ponder?" Soda asked, slinging an arm around Dally's shoulder. He glanced at Steve quickly to make sure he was paying more attention to the cars than he was to them. "Not getting' any?" he murmured.

"I've lost him," Dally mumbled back. "Ain't seen him in ages."

Soda looked surprised. "I thought you was with him a couple or three days ago."

"Nah. It's been four."

Soda snorted. "You call that ages?" He grinned slyly. "Don't tell me you're in looooove Dallas Winston."

Dally laughed out loud. "Fuck kid. You know me better n' that." He grinned at Soda, feeling a bit like his old self. "I just hope for his sake he gets back before I decide I'm horny enough to try girl again."

"Hey!" Steve suddenly said. He was looking past Dally and Soda out through the open door that lead to the shop part of the gas station. He leapt up and stalked towards the door. "Hey buddy, you gonna pay for that?"

"Dally," Tim groaned softly. He was suddenly hit with an overwhelming wave of longing. He missed the stupid kid..........why on earth hadn't he been hanging out with him instead of with the gang?

'That's right,' he thought, remembering. He'd been trying to win back the gang's trust by spending an exorbitant amount of time with them. And what good had it done him? They'd just left him in a random field with the worst hangover he'd ever felt.

He trudged along the sidewalk, urging himself to put one foot in front of the other, until he came to a gas station. He stepped inside and made for the coke coolers. Tim opened the door and without hesitation popped the top off a bottle of Pepsi and drank half the contents in one gulp. He groaned again as the cold liquid ran through him, bringing life back into his brain. He drained the contents quickly and reached for another, casually looking around him. With a start he realised he recognised the gas station. He barely had time to place where he was before a voice called indignantly to him:

"Hey buddy, you gonna pay for that?"

Tim looked up to see an angry young man wearing grease stained pants, a grease-stained checked shirt and a grease-stained scowl striding towards him, wiping his grease-stained hands on a grease-stained rag.

"Pepsi's 10 cents a bottle," the young man informed him. "An' you got two, so that's twenty cents." Tim cocked his head to the side, not listening, but trying to place the young man – he looked awfully familiar.

"Well, well, well look whose come back from the dead!" Sodapop Curtis came barrelling out of nowhere, beaming ridiculously at Tim. "Where ya been?"

Tim stared. He'd never spent so much as an hour hanging out with the young Curtis – he was quite surprised by this outburst of friendliness.

"Don't give 'im to hard a time Stevie," Soda said, slapping the still scowling boy on the back. "This is Tim. Shepard. You know. The gang leader."

"I know and I don't care. He still owes 20 cents," the boy Tim now connected as 'Stevie' said viciously.

Tim dug in his pockets and managed to produce a 25 cent piece. "There ya go," he growled, and opened the second Pepsi. "Keep the change."

He glanced at Sodapop, the obviously more friendly of the two, and wondered if he dared ask. 'Damn that kid looks hot,' he couldn't help thinking. Soda looked fresh and eager, his brown eyes warm, his golden hair pushed back thickly from his face. Tim shook himself. These weren't thoughts he wanted to have right now.

"Uh, listen, Soda is it? You seen, uh, around, you know, your house or whatnot.........I know he hangs out there-"

"Steve, look don't kick my ass but I kinda messed with somethin' back here an' it's makin' a funny noise now," shouted an unmistakeable voice from behind a half closed door marked "Employees".

Tim's heart leapt into his throat, plunged down to his groin and then settled back again to its rightful place in the time span of half a second. He downed the entire second Pepsi in one mouthful.

"Dallas! You fuckin' touched something?! I'm gonna kill you, you dumbass greaser," Steve yelled back, speeding towards the door.

"Dal, guess who we ran into out here?" Soda called after Steve's back. He turned to Tim and wiggled his eyebrows. Tim almost vomited up the Pepsi.

"WHO?!" Dallas came barrelling out from the door as if he already knew. He caught sight of Tim and his eyes lit up like a pair of blue Christmas trees. Before Tim could even begin to feel happy to see him the blond threw himself forward, wrapped his arms around Tim's neck and pressed his lips firmly against Tim's.

Tim's eyes closed out of sheer habit and he instinctively pulled Dallas into him before suddenly, horrified, he realised that Sodapop was still in the same room.

He shoved Dally off of him and staggered back, his eyes refocusing on Soda, who looked both stunned and amused. Tim couldn't speak. He didn't know what the hell to do. His whole body still hurt, his head was pounding and he was still on a rush from the kiss. But first and foremost in his mind was the question he was desperate to shriek at Dallas: WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?!

"Hey relax," Dally reached forward, rubbing Tim's arm gently. "He knows already." Dallas glanced at Soda, noting the look on his face. "What's with the shocked look Sodapop?" he asked cheerfully. He was still furiously excited at seeing Tim again, even if he did look and smell like hell.

Soda shrugged, trying to look as if he hadn't been shaken. "Uh, I just never saw........you know........that..........before."

"How the hell do you know?" Tim sputtered. "How the – how did – Dallas how the hell does he know?" Tim rounded on his boyfriend, glaring furiously at him.

Dally wrinkled his nose. "You need a shower. And probably an aspirin judging from the rummy smell. Sheesh, you smell like you've been bathing in beer." He wrapped his fist in Tim's shirt and pulled the older man towards the door. "See ya later Sodapop, I'm gonna take off for now," he called back. "Go hunt some action or something," he added, in case Steve was listening.

Soda watched them go, still a little surprised. It was funny – he'd seen Dallas act all sorts of ways with a girl, but it had never occurred to him that he'd transfer his open, almost tender, multiple-PDA moves to Tim. He'd thought it was all about sex. Seeing them kiss like that was a little disconcerting.

At first Tim didn't have the strength to resist Dally pulling him along. The he realised he didn't really care anyway. Without Soda gaping at him, the urgency of the situation faded from his mind, to be replaced by an all too familiar pounding that demanded water, an aspirin and a really hot bath. Maybe Dally would join him. Tim's lips curved into a smile. That could be just what the doctor ordered.

Dally lead him all the way back to his house and up the stairs, never once glancing back. This almost worried Tim until they reached him room and the blond spun abruptly about and slipped his arms once again around Tim.

"I missed you," he said, almost shyly. Then in a rush: "Where ya been?"

Tim smiled. This was what he loved about dating guys. Any girl would have been hysterical by now, throwing things, furious at him for staying away for three days without any word and for showing up hung-over and smelling to high-heaven. Not his Dallas. He was a little surprised by Dally's sudden affectionate behaviour – but he reasoned that it really wasn't in the boy's nature to keep his mouth closed about anything. He just hadn't realised that their relationship had reached a level where it actually meant something to the tow-headed teen.

"I missed you too," he said and quickly brought his mouth down on Dally's. "But I gotta take a bath – shit I smell bad. I don't even remember why." He raised an eyebrow at Dally. "You wanna join me?"

Dally shrugged. "Okay," he said mildly.

A few minutes later, Tim was sitting naked in the bath and Dallas was sitting beside it, still fully clothed except for his jacket.

"You know this ain't quite what I meant," Tim said dryly.

"I know, but it's what I meant," Dally said breezily. His eyes travelled up and down (mostly down) Tim's body, pausing here and there to take in the sights. He leaned against the porcelain of the bathtub, trying to cool his skin. It was no use. He was hopelessly hard. "'Sides. I deserve a reward after waitin' for you for three fucking days. You know how many chicks I coulda laid in that time, Shepard?"

"None, with your track record," Tim snickered.

"Shut up." Dally grinned. "I really did miss you, man," he added.

"You mean you got horny and lonely without me here to make out with ya." Tim reached up a dripping hand and tugged Dally's shirt. "Come on, this ain't fair Dallas," he teased. "This makes it twice that you've seen me naked, an' I ain't never seen you so........." He let his left hand trail down to rest between his own legs.

Dally flushed, and his eyes widened, so focused on what Tim was doing to himself with his left hand that he barely realised when the older greaser undid the buttons on his shirt with one swift movement.

"Come on Dally," Tim whispered. He leaned out of the bath and tugged off Dally's over shirt. The blond cocked his head to one side, and without hesitation pulled off his white t-undershirt. Tim whistled appreciatively.

"Shut up," Dally said again, his voice as low as Tim's. He kicked off his shoes and socks. Then he paused. Was he really gonna go through with this? The excitement at having Tim back had led him this far, but he wasn't sure if the momentum would reach to him stripping off his pants.

"I won't touch you if you don't want me to," Tim said softly. "Come one, these jeans are probably uncomfortable anyway right?" He jerked his head towards Dally's crotch and grinned lopsidedly.

Dally smiled back weakly. He snapped the button on his jeans. Slowly, slowly, agonizingly slowly he pulled down the zipper.

Tim didn't move a muscle. He felt like he was watching a deer from close by – if he moved even an inch the stricken animal would bolt. The bathwater was unusually still.

Dally stood. His wavering confidence translated itself into his legs and he almost took a tumble into the bath. Tim started and moved to grab him, then laughed softly, assured Dally wasn't going to fall. Dally grinned back – the tension lessened.

"You know, this isn't even the hard part," Tim said pointedly. "You gotta take off your underwear after this."

"Wear underwear? Me? You really think so?" Dally winked at Tim as the older greaser's mouth dropped open.

Dallas squeezed his eyes shut. It was now or never. He could feel himself start to hyperventilate. He couldn't be controlled by his past for the rest of his life. It was time to take the plunge. He took a deep breath to calm himself, gathered his courage and dropped his pants.


	21. Chapter 21

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 21

A/N: Plan failed. Sorry...I know it's been over a week. But well...okay whatever.

I'll still try to update.

P.S. Um...if you think that it's disgraceful to write a story depicting two hot, horny gay guys going at each other like jungle monkeys then well, heh, don't read the rest of this fic, cause – hey, genius – IT'S SLASH (as mentioned on, oh, lemme see, page 1).

P.P.S. Also, if my writing style, and or, lack of talent is the thing that's disgraceful, please do not read the rest of this story, as it's classic zevie sarcasm-sex-talk trash.

P.P.P.S. I'm normally not this sarcastic...wait, wait, that's wrong, I am. Just normally not so mean. But, well, school and the heinous process of applying to universities has dulled my otherwise keen sense of humanity. Heh. Whatever, I WOULD like to know what is so disgraceful about this story, and I'll try to to yell when you tell me eh? End communication.

P.P.P.P.S. Thanks to all the lovely people who reviewed. Really, honestly I quite appreciate it. Keep up the good work boys. Lol.

P.P.P.P.P.S. And girls, too...lol sorry...

* * *

"Come on baby."

"No...no. Look I've got a headache."

"Hey, you know I can tell when you're lying right? What's going on?"

"Look I just...I have so much to think about right now. I really just don't think I can handle having sex on top of everything else."

"Ohhhh MAN you know you make me so damn horny-"

"I'm sorry! But that's just...that's just the way I feel."

"I know, I know. And I want to respect that. It's just...hard."

"Well, if you love me, you'll wait, and when if finally happens it'll be so special...it'll be...magical. You love me don't you?"

"Damn girl," Soda lit a cigarette and tried hard not too think about the rather large problem in his pants. "As if you didn't know that I just love you so damn much." He reached over and drew her into his arms, nuzzling into the crook of her neck.

Sandy giggled. "I love you too Soda." She tweaked the cigarette from his fingers and took a long drag off of it. "You know I'd love to just give in to this," she murmured. "But, honestly Sodapop...there are so many things right now that the situation. And I don't want it to be complicated when we make love. Savvy?"

Soda snatched his cigarette back and blew a puff of smoke playfully at her. "Girl, you know I'd wait forever for you. I want you to want me as bad as I want you now." He cracked a grin. "You savvy?"

Sandy laughed. "Sometimes I think I'm just so lucky," she whispered. "I have the most amazing boyfriend." She leaned forward and kissed Soda gently. "You better be glad to be with me too," she said, teasingly waving a finger in his face. "Even if I'm am just a stingy old prune."

Soda laughed. "Hey, even if you DID give into me – it'd be hard to satisfy my drive baby," he wiggled his eyebrows and Sandy giggled again. "You know," he said thoughtfully, "I bet only homos get enough sex to satisfy themselves. And only cause its two guys."

Sandy sat up suddenly. "Soda, you're not...you don't mean..." Her blue eyes were huge.

"Oh, no, no!" Soda said hastily. "I didn't mean me, honey. I just meant..." He paused. He knew he shouldn't. But, she was so trustworthy. He desperately needed someone to confide in and she was the perfect person. Open-minded, compassionate, and discreet enough to keep a secret...and he loved her. And she loved him.

He took a deep breath. "I have this friend..."

* * *

"You know, I thought it would be weird but it really isn't. I mean, not that old argument about it being you and me and all...well, I guess sort of. Cause it wouldn't really matter if you were a girl. I mean...except I guess I wouldn't really want too. At least, not anymore. But, I mean...it's just...not that bad. Not that weird, you know?"

"Hmmm."

"It's warm. Are you warm? But, I mean, like, a nice warm. I'm not too warm. Or too hot. Hah. I'm actually not hot. I mean, like, horny hot. Well. I mean not anymore than usual. I mean we're not really doing anything right? So it's just...I dunno. Comfortable. Aren't you comfortable? Completely comfortable. Com-for-ta-ble."

"Hmmm."

"Com-for-ta-ble. COM-fortable. Com-FOR-table. You ever notice that the more you say a word the less it means? Like comfortable. Or like...it means something you never thought it would mean. Like. Come. Fortable. Hey!! Come for table. Come for table!"

"Hmmm."

"Hmm...this is nice. Isn't it nice?"

Silence.

"Hey-"

"Oh, for the love of all that is sane, Dallas will you please, PLEASE stop talking?"

Dally wiggled around, sloshing water around in the bathtub and grinned up at Tim. "Sorry I forgot, hangover right? But hey, it's okay. I think I'm over it now. I mean I was nervous at first and that's why I kept talking but now I'm pretty, well, comfortable-"

Tim covered Dally's mouth quickly with his hand. "No more. Please, I beg you. No more talking. Are you TRYING to make me cry? Cause I swear Dallas...if you start again..."

Dally pried Tim's hand off his mouth and stroked Tim's nose with a finger. "Hush, hush my little noisemaking jungle monkey. Or the lion will have to eat you." He turned back around swirled the soap lazily with a finger. "Shit. Shit man, I'm so fucking stoned."

Tim leaned back. "Yeah? Funny that, couldn't tell."

"You still wanna fuck me?"

Tim sighed. "Dal, the point of the weed was to make you relax and figure out what you want without being so goddamned afraid. It wasn't just so that I could get into your pants and it DEFINITELY wasn't to make you act different than yourself."

"I'm not wearing any pants."

"I know," Tim said, frustrated. He knew Dallas was stoned, but he also knew that this jittery, freaked-out behaviour was mostly out of fear. It was definitely a mistake to have given Dally weed. The kid had just looked so, well, UNcomfortable sitting there naked that he had to do something. Dallas may have been in the bathtub with him now but Tim still felt like they'd just taken a step backward.

"No. No, I mean...I'm here, with you, and I'm not wearing any pants. And neither are you." Dally looked up at Tim. He gave him a tiny nervous smile. His pot-reddened eyes were starting to clear.

Tim gave him a slight smile in return. "Yes."

Dally turned around and leaned his back against Tim's chest. "And I'm not scared of you. Not at all."

His face buried in Dally's hair where no one could see it, Tim smiled for real. "Oh yeah? Maybe I should test that..." He slid a hand down Dally's stomach toward his dick, veering across down his thigh at the last moment.

To his surprise the tow-headed teen groaned disappointedly and his hips jerked towards Tim's hand. "If you're gonna do that don't be such a goddamned tease," Dallas growled, sounding like himself again.

Trying to control his own excitement (and failing badly, and he was sure Dallas realised) Tim inched his hand back up Dally's thigh. He paused for a split second, hovering over his boyfriend's groin. Then his hand slid downward and he grasped Dallas's cock for the first time. His hangover had completely disappeared.

* * *

All the air he'd been holding in his lungs whooshed out of him in one single breath. Tim's hand sliding along his skin underwater had felt ridiculously erotic. And he wasn't afraid. It may have had something to do with the drugs. Alright, maybe he wasn't as stoned as he was pretending he was, but there was a little buzz kickin' around in his head. And pretending made things easier.

Tim's hand gently slid along the shaft of his dick and all the thoughts made like his breath and slipped away in a matter of nanoseconds.

"Fuck," he gasped softly.

"That alright?" Tim's voice was muffled with his own excitement. Dallas could feel his hard-on pressing against his back. It felt weird, but at this time the weirdness was exciting. Fear had still not touched him.

Tim slid his hand down over the end of Dally's dick, gently tugging at his foreskin. It had shocked the hell out of him when Dally'd dropped his pants and he hadn't been circumcised. Hell, he barely knew anyone his age who hadn't been cut. But he'd quickly gotten over his shock and was now just plain curious as to what it felt like.

Dally's eyes closed and he groaned softly as Tim's fingers played over his head. He had no clue why he hadn't been cut like so many of his friends. He used to wish he had been in gym class (or any other communal showers) when he'd notice other guys and no one looked the same. Then around age 13, bored and sitting in bed with a stolen Playboy (and wondering what was the big deal about skin mags) puberty had suddenly hit. His mind had changed considerably since then.

"Oh yeaaaaaah," he breathed. "Fuck...oh fuck that feels good. No, no don't change...aw yeah. YEAH, like that."

Tim snorted. "You know, for a scared little kid you're awfully vocal." He let his fingers tickle gently across Dally's swollen crotch.

"Fuck if you weren't still doing that I'd kick your ass," Dally panted. He was so close.

"Hmm...so how long's it been Dal?" Tim murmured, his mouth devastatingly near Dally's ear, his breath tickling the hairs on the back of his neck.

"Wh...what?"

"I've been barely touching you for, what, a minute and 30 seconds? And you're all ready to blow so quick. Must have been a while since you last, ah, helped yourself out eh?"

Dally gritted his teeth. _'Think unsexy thoughts, Dallas...'he thought firmly. 'Worms. Piles of seething worms. Ick. Baseball. Baseball?! What the fuck do I know about baseball? Basketball maybe...uhhhhhnnnn...fuck, feels so good...Two-Bit in a bikini. Damn Two-Bit. Uhhhnnnn...Soda's green pancakes...oh, god...oh, god...oh fuck oh god oh fuck...'_

"Dallas?"

"Not since before my birthday," he gasped. _'Oh fuck oh god oh fuck oh shit oh god oh fuck oh shit oh god oh shit oh fuck....ahhh my cock...'_

"Hah, that's a DAMN long time Dallas. At least for you eh? Almost 3 weeks..." Tim cooed softly in his ear, sliding his other hand down to join the first in his teasing, tickling torment of the blond's most sensitive parts. "You sure look like you could use some relief..."

_'JESUS CHRIST!! GOD SHIT FUCK SHIT FUCK GOD SHIT DAMN FUCKING HELL SHIT FUCKING DAMN OH HELL....'_

"Tim," Dally panted desperately. "I don't think I can hold on..." He bit back a whimper as Tim's fist spiralled unrelentingly up and down his cock the other hand just as mercilessly toying with the end of his now throbbing penis.

"So? What the fuck are you waiting for?"

'_SHIT FUCK DAMN OH SHIT OH GOD OH SHIT FUCK FUCK....FUCK!!!!!!'_

"Ahhhh, ahhhahahah! OH MY GOD!"

Dally's whole body rocked with the spasms. After three weeks of waiting the reward was absurdly pleasurable. He gripped the sides of the bath so hard his knuckles turned white. Water sloshed out the sides of the tub, forced into movement by the lunging of his hips. Dallas was hardly ever one to be inhibited about his sexuality, particularly at moments when it so dominated his mind, so yelling out at the top of his lungs when his boyfriend made him come seemed as natural to him as anything.

"Shhh! Dallas, quiet, you want the whole world to know?" Tim laughed softly, not really caring, slowing the movement of his hands to match the quieting rhythm of Dally's hips.

"Oh shit, Tim." Dally leaned back against his boyfriend sighing contentedly. He closed his eyes waiting to feel that miserable feeling in his gut that he'd tried so hard to avoid. He felt nothing, but a gentle tingling as the blood returned to the other parts of his body.

"Yeah..." Tim wrapped his arms around Dallas, feeling happy, though a gentle throbbing between his legs was nagging at him. Still, Dally was relaxed against him now...he wasn't about to disturb that. He squirmed slightly. Tim just wasn't used to waiting when his cock said "go". But, he couldn't expect Dallas to want to do anything now.

Dally turned slightly, raising an eyebrow at Tim's predicament. The absence of any negative side effects to this new found pleasure had sent him into an ecstasy of excess energy. He couldn't stop smiling. "Well, hey," he said, wiggling his eyebrows at Tim. "I could probably go again too." He grinned devilishly. "So how clean d'you reckon your bed is huh?"


	22. Chapter 22

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 22

A/N: Holy crap man, it's been like two years.

I started this chapter maybe a year ago, or more…….heh, can't remember. But, I'm finishing it now. My style is probably different, probably more boring. Lol, probably no one remembers this story anyway! But, here it is.

P.S. For those of you who remember……….They didn't do it. If/when they do, you'll get to see dun worry ;)

P.P.S. I'm also experiencing MAJOR writer's block, as I've not written anything in the last two years since this fic.

Recap: Tim kiss Dally, Dally like Tim, start "dating", Dallas gets spooked, now he's a little bit unspooked.

**Warning:** Dallas is NOT as hard (HAH pun intended) as he should be, I know this. But, I don't care. As with my other works, this is fully and shamelessly self-indulgent. I wanna see 'em do it. ;) That said I will totally appreciate any criticisms, especially on Dallas' character because, well, you're the ones who are reading this, after all. Oh yeah, and it's graphic and all that so if you're under 18, then don't tell anyone. I mean, um, don't read this.

* * *

He was woken the next morning by the chirping of birds and for once he didn't mind. Dally groaned and stretched luxuriously, enjoying the warm pressure at his side. His eyes opened in full expectation of the man he would see next to him.

"Mornin' sexy," Tim rumbled in his ear.

Dally grinned sleepily. "Mornin' yourself."

Tim propped himself up on one elbow and gazed down at the blond blue-eyed devil beside him. "How ya feelin'?"

"Not too shabby."

"No regrets?"

"None."

Tim smiled wryly. "Well, it's a step in the right direction at least," he drawled.

"What? You expected me to fuck you right away? I ain't THAT easy Shepard," Dally retorted.

Tim grinned. "Don't I know it." Dally was so easily irritated.

Dallas sat up. "You complainin'? Cause-"

"No, no!" Tim replied hastily. "I ain't complainin'. Getting you to touch me at all was more n' I expected."

Dally leaned down slowly. "Yeah, well. Was just returning the favour."

Tim leaned over, gently brushing his lips against Dally's. "Any chance of a repeat?"

"What – now? You horny bastard." But Dally's breath was quickening even as he said it.

"Come on. You know you wanna," Tim breathed into Dally's ear, slipping a hand loosely around Dally's waist.

"Gimme a minute, okay?" Dally scrambled out of bed before Tim could protest. "Gotta pee."

He slipped out Tim's door and down the hall into the bathroom. Glancing at his reflection he quickly splashed some water on his face, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He checked his breath ("Yuck.") then searched the cabinets quickly for some mouthwash.

"What're you doing?"

Dally spat out his mouthful quickly and turned to see Tim leaning against the doorframe, looking sleepy and somewhat amused.

"Uh, nothin'. Hey, whatever happened to privacy," Dally grumbled. Tim chuckled. He advanced and wrapped an arm around the blond.

"Come on…Dallyyyy," he whined, as the blond tried unsuccessfully to flatten his hair. Tim kissed Dally's neck gently.

"Yeah, hang on. Damn bed head. I think I got it though…maybe a little water – hey!!!" Tim had reached up and messed Dally's hair with his hand.

"Quit being such a dope," Tim said. "I'm just gonna get you messy again anyway." He pulled Dally from the bathroom and backed quickly down the hallway towards his bedroom. Halfway there a door opened and a grumpy-looking Curly stepped out. Dally froze, but the younger boy barely glanced at him.

"'Scuse me," he mumbled, squeezing past Dally to the bathroom.

Dally's eyes met Tim's and they both had to run to Tim's bedroom before they burst out laughing. "Holy SHIT!!!" Dally gasped.

"You shoulda seen your face," Tim laughed.

"Probably looked something like yours," Dally said.

Tim leaned forward pulling Dally into a searing kiss. "Fuck it," he murmured against his lips. "I don't care anymore. Let him tell the whole fuckin' world."

"Hey. I care." Dally pulled back slightly his eyes flashing. "What do you think your gang's gonna do to you if they find out, huh?"

Tim ran his fingers through Dally's hair. "What – you worried about me?" he asked gently.

"I will be if they find out," Dally said quickly. "We gotta be more careful Tim. If people keep catchin' us, it's gonna leak to your gang."

"Yeah, I know," Tim said impatiently. His buzz was fading fast.

"Sure you do. Tim, I'm serious."

Tim sighed, flopping down backwards on his bed. "You can be a real killjoy sometimes, you know?"

Dally climbed slowly on the bed after him. "I just don't wanna get caught Tim."

"Fine. I get it." Tim rolled over on his side, turning his back to Dally.

"Aw, come on. Don't be such an ass." Dally pulled Tim onto his back and quickly straddled him. "I thought you wanted to have some fun."

* * *

"Tim's fucking Dally Winston."

Angela gripped her nail polish brush harder and tried to act like she hadn't heard. Curly stood in the door to her bedroom, fists on his waist and an impatient frown on his face. He watched his sister closely, noticing her jaw clench in spite of her pretended indifference. He slammed the door behind him and stomped over, yanking the nail polish out of her hands.

"Didn't you hear me? I said Tim is -"

"What's it to you?" Angela snapped. She made a grab for the bottle. "How's you find out anyway?"

"Just saw Winston coming out of our bathroom in his boxers." Curly scowled, then handed her the bottle. "How the hell did YOU find out?"

"I…saw…"

Curly made a face. "Gross."

"Not THAT. Just, well, kissing." She studied her freshly reddened nailed, carefully avoiding her brother's gaze. "So, what do we do about it?"

Curly shrugged, leaning against the door. "He's getting careless," he said finally. "That's not like Tim."

Angela shook her head. "But, I guess it's kind of hard to keep it secret, being as we live in the same house."

"That's just it. He ain't never DONE it in this house before."

Angela frowned. "That's not true. When he was dating Carmen he brought her 'round here all the time. Then ma went crazy when she found 'em out-"

"Not girls," Curly said impatiently. "He brought home girls before. I mean, I never seen him bring a…a…you know. Here."

"Idiot. 'Cause there wasn't no one to bring," Angela shot back.

"That ain't what he told me."

* * *

"Fuck, yesssss…" Tim groaned against Dally's mouth. Dallas was grinding in just the right spot. "Don't stop."

"Uh-huh," Dally panted, his face red from effort. He let his hand fall to where their groins met. "Why the hell would I stop? You wanted a repeat of last night didn't you?"

Tim groaned again in response. As much as he'd appreciated Dally's hand on his dick, he was still an 18 year old guy, and this seemed the prime opportunity to push things. He smiled slyly at Dallas, wondering how turned on the blond was, and consequently, how much he was going to get away with.

Dally's brain was foggy with arousal, but he was swift enough to catch the look Tim gave him. "What?" he managed, before finding himself flat on his back, Tim's grinning face leering down at him. "What," he said again, louder. "What are you doing?"

"Shh, I ain't gonna hurt you," Tim whispered, tugging Dally's boxer down on his hips.

"I didn't ask what you're not going to do, I asked what the hell you're doing." Dally tried to snap at him, but it came out breathier than he'd intended.

Tim's grin was stupidly large. "Trust me. You'll like it."

"I don't trust you as far as I…mmph." Tim's mouth descended on Dally's. He tried to kiss Tim back, but found he'd quickly moved on, leaving a trail of wet kisses down Dally's neck. Dally squirmed; it felt alright but was tickling him more than he liked. He was losing control awfully fast.

"Where the hell you going? My mouth's up here."

Tim laughed against Dally's neck, and the boy almost threw him off the bed.

"DON'T. That tickles," Dally said through clenched teeth.

"I didn't know you were ticklish," Tim murmured. Without warning he dug his fingers into the boy's midsection. Dally let loose an uncharacteristic shriek, followed by a much more typical stream of curse words.

"You sensitive there, huh?" Tim ground his hips against Dally's. For all his swearing, Dallas never lost his hard on. "How about here?" Before Dally could blink Tim had jammed his fingers up under his arms.

Dally yelped and twisted under Tim's fingers. "You did too know I was ticklish you son of a bitch," he managed to gasp. It wasn't the first time Tim had attacked him this way. The year they'd become friends (and coincidentally, the year puberty had hit Dallas like a ton of bricks) more than one friendly (and private) wrestling match had ended with Tim straddling Dally in exactly the same way, tickling him almost until he'd cried. They hadn't kept it up for long, and, of course, never talked about it. Dallas could feel his face flush at the memory – it had never been innocent on his part, and now he knew it wasn't on Tim's either.

"That's right," Tim said slowly, letting his hands rest on Dally's shoulders. He had to take a breather himself. Sitting on the kid was like riding a bucking horse. "That used to be fun. Couldn't resist, you bein' such a ticklish kid." He grinned. "And if I remember right, you enjoyed it a helluva lot, too."

Dally was already too red to blush, but his face gave it a shot anyway. Almost as a rule he'd used to have to find a private place to "help himself out" after wrestling with Tim, but as a kid he'd always thought he managed to hide his arousal. He was quickly realising how obvious he was.

"You know," Tim said thoughtfully. "There was always a place I wanted to try tickling you, but, I never got a chance." He smiled wickedly at Dallas. "You know? A place you're probably the most sensitive…"

Dally groaned and closed his eyes, a flurry of his early teenage fantasies coming back to him in a rush. "Well, what the hell you waiting for," he growled. "You got your chance."

* * *

Angela grimaced. If Tim was trying to keep Dallas a secret he was failing miserably. "That don't make sense," she said loudly, trying to cover the creaks coming from Tim's room.

Curly shrugged, then made a similar face as Dallas let out a yell that he'd bet you could hear a block away. "Look, I'm just telling you what he told me," he said shortly. "He said he still likes girls enough. Just sometimes he wants…well, I don't reckon he likes 'em all the time. Guys, I mean. Just for sex."

"'A man's got needs,'" Angela said in disgust.

"He said there are things a guy had to do, since most girls don't like sex as much as guys do. And there are some things a girl'll never do, that he said guys don't mind."

"That's bullshit," Angela spat. "He's a fucking homo."

Curly grabbed her shoulders, shaking her hard. "You ever say that again, I'll slap you silly," he said firmly. "This ain't none of your business Angel. And you tell anyone, _anyone_, and I swear, I won't be backing _you_ up when Tim comes to kill you."

Angela's mouth tightened. "I'm not an idiot," she snapped. "I ain't gonna tell anyone."

"Good." Curly opened her door. "Then this is just between you, me, an' Tim."

'And Two-Bit Matthews,' Angela thought, as Curly left her room.

A/N: Okay, this is sucking. Sorry. If anyone has any ideas, for this, or for a new fic, lemme know PLEASE!!!!!!!!! I miss writing, but I've got a severe lack of inspiration.


	23. Chapter 23

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 23

A/N: Thanks for the reviews guys! Haha, this time I WILL finish this story properly…but not quite yet. And I'll try to update at a reasonable interval.

**Warning: **There will be more graphic scenes in this chapter, right from the get-go. In fact, I'm rating this chapter at least **R**. Don't read it if…

- you don't like slash

- you're too young

- you generally dislike my style

- you don't like the idea of oral sex

…hahaha. Riiiiight.

P.S. I find myself becoming very giggly when writing sex scenes, and so, as always, have had to resort to humour to mask my severe, _severe_ immaturity. Apologies. ;)

P.P.S. First half is totally PWP.

* * *

Dallas stared at the ceiling of Tim's room. There wasn't anything particularly interesting about the ceiling, other than a crack running from the corner of the ceiling to right above his head, and a strand of spider-web floating a few inches to the left, but he couldn't seem to summon the energy to move his eyes. His brain felt as if it had been shut off, or maybe removed and replaced with a good deal of kitchen sponge. Maybe this was because of the lazy afternoon sun, slanting through Tim's window. Maybe it was the heat of Tulsa in June. Maybe it was Tim's mouth on his dick.

"Oh God," Dallas said for what must have been the seventy-thousandth time in the last three minutes.

From his spot between Dally's knees Tim tried to laugh, but, as with any noise he tried to make from this position, it came out as a "mmflgh" and a small quantity of drool.

Dallas did not have the presence of mind to think about sounds. Four of his five senses (including his hearing) had appeared to have shut down, which was very lucky for Dallas because he was making a number of noises that were neither dignified nor manly.

Tim's hearing, however, was working perfectly, as was his vision, and it was only through tremendous self-control and a thorough knowledge of the delicacy of the situation that he was able to keep from pointing at Dallas and laughing.

"Oh God…ohGodohGodohGod," Dally chanted frantically. His body was covered in sweat and his heart was pounding and he was groaning with the exertion of lying there and taking it. He'd never felt anything as deliciously pleasurable as this in his entire life, and though a part of him never wanted it to end, another part of him was finding it much too much to take. Dallas had never wanted an orgasm as badly as he did now.

"Oh, _please_ Tim," he moaned, and Tim almost lost it himself. He pulled slowly off the younger boy's dick giving them both a much needed breather.

"You like that," he said raspily.

"Oh, God," Dallas said.

Tim chuckled. He squirmed a little and tugged on his boxers, vainly trying to make himself comfortable. As funny as Dallas' uncontrolled response was, it was also undeniably sexy. Every time the blond gasped his name, or begged him, panting the word 'please', his fists twisted desperately in the sheets, Tim's own dick threatened to rip the shorts right off him. He liked watching his lovers lose control, so this was no surprise (and with Dallas Tim was so far in control of the situation he almost felt sorry for the boy). What was unexpected was that he was finding it impossible to control his own reactions.

Dally's heart rate slowed, as he gradually returned to earth. He was still almost unbearably horny, but without the stimulation he was slowly gaining control of himself. Now that he'd experienced it, he couldn't for the life of him understand why he'd been so reluctant to let Tim touch him. He was no virgin and as fantastic as sex was, what Tim had been doing to him was blowing his mind. If he'd been a cartoon his head would have already exploded. "Oh, man, Tim, that was so good," he panted. "I mean it was so…_good_."

Tim grinned. He'd only done it once before and secretly he'd been a little worried about what to do. But it didn't seem to matter what he did, Dallas was loving it. "You, um…" He cleared his throat. "You want me to do anything specific?"

Dally stared, a million different sexual fantasies crowding into his brain at once. "Um…yeah, do it again."

Tim laughed. "What you ain't finished yet?" he teased, tracing one finger ticklishly along Dallas' quaking penis.

Dally bit back a whimper. Tim hadn't followed through with his promise to tickle him where he most needed it, and he was glad. He'd never admit it but his body was just too sensitive to take it. Just the fact that it was Tim between his legs made him feel everything a hundred times more acutely. "Damnit Tim, I really need to…" he trailed off, now too conscious of himself to beg for it.

Tim groaned. The thought of making Dallas desperate enough to finish that sentence put him over the edge. Almost helplessly he shoved his left hand into his boxers and began to rub himself as fast as he could.

Dally's mouth went cotton-ball dry. He did it, he knew Tim did it, hell, every guy in Tulsa did it and half of them were probably doing it right now, but it was such a private act it made him feel like he was breaking the rules watching Tim masturbate. And breaking the rules was making him ache. "Glory, Tim."

Dallas was staring so much Tim couldn't help but feel embarrassed. He let go of himself quickly. "Don't act like such a goddamned saint," he said gruffly. "I know you do it more than me."

In spite of himself, Dallas blushed. "Well, never in front of no one," he mumbled.

Tim smiled slyly. "Well, hey, I could use a show."

"No fucking way."

"Tell you what," Tim said, moving so he was beside Dallas. "You give me something to look at and I'll suck you dry."

Dallas' hand was on his dick before Tim could blink.

* * *

The bell rang loudly, signalling the beginning of fifth period English. Sandy let Sodapop give her one last parting kiss before pushing him away and disappearing into her classroom. She smiled as he sprinted down the hallway to his own class, turning at the last second and subtly blowing her a kiss from the tips of two fingers. She grinned and waved back before turning reluctantly into the class. She slipped through the rows of students, avoiding their gazes, but checking out the skirts of the girls in the front row. Pretty, stylish, but boring. Sandy was no slut, but she liked to show a little leg. She settled herself in the back with her own friends who were draped over their desks in a much less orderly manner.

"Today we will be beginning our term assignments on 'Twelfth Night.'" The teacher didn't even bother to wait until the class had calmed. She knew from years of experience that no matter how loudly and importantly she said something today, by the next class half the students would swear she'd never told them. "I know some of you haven't finished reading the play," she continued, and some of the students laughed guiltily. "You may use the time today in class to finish. If you have finished reading it, please copy the instructions for the final topic that I've written on the board, and begin to think about your papers. These papers will be worth fifteen percent of your grade," loud groans filled the class, "so unless you've finished, and are confident that you have an 'A' paper on your hands, there should be no reason to talk."

"Whatever," Angela Shepard hissed. Her face was set in her expert combination of scowl and bored eyes (a mixture of both her older brothers). "I don't get how the hell she keeps deluding herself that we're actually working. Fat cow."

Sandy picked up a sheet of paper and set to work copying the notes, but she half turned her body towards Angela to show she was still listening.

"Whatcha doin' Sandra Dee," Angela asked sarcastically. "Workin'?"

"Someone's gotta do it, or who you gonna copy offa, huh?" Sandy drawled in response.

Angela grinned. "Ain't that the truth. Keep it up."

"This is a stupid play," Jenny Heckles groaned, tossing her well-worn copy down on the desk. "Who the hell wants to read about a cross-dressing girl?"

"Damn that Shakespeare's dirty," giggled Heather Purchase. "Why the hell did the rich guy go for some cross-dressing whore?"

"He didn't until she was a girl," Sandy said. "It was love at first sight."

This was met with a good deal of derisive laughter. "Girls," the teacher called, not even looking up.

"Shut up," Jenny whispered. "He totally wanted to fuck her when she was a guy."

"Fucking homo rich guy. Fucking homo _Shakespeare_," Heather added, and the group dissolved in muffled giggles.

"Who cares," Jenny said, when they'd got under control. "I wanna know how you managed to snag such a babe, Sandy. That guy is beautiful."

"Sodapop? He's so sweet he'd make your teeth ache," Sandy said, smiling dreamily.

"Or, at least your jaw," Angela said drily.

"You are such a slut!" Jenny gasped, as the other three laughed into their hands.

"Mm, mm Sodapop," Angela whispered cheerfully. "Good to the last drop."

"Betcha Shakespeare'd agree."

"Gross!"

"Well, if he's a homo…"

"You know who I think keeps getting hotter?" Jenny broke in. "Dallas Winston."

All four girls groaned, three in agreement, one because she'd been trying to get him out of her head all day.

"He's so not hot," Angela said disgustedly.

"Shut up. You know you'd do him," Jenny teased.

"Just cause he's a bad boy," Heather chimed in.

"Love the bad boys," Sandy added.

Angela scowled. "He ain't either. He's got nothing on Tim."

Again the three other girls groaned. "Tim's soooo hot."

"He's the baddest of the bad."

"A total stud."

"But, ain't he polite. The way he treated Carmen Hamilton-"

"Slut."

"Didn't deserve him, that's for sure."

"Half the girls he dates ain't good enough for him," Angela said scowling. "But, he won't go for the good ones."

"How come?" Sandy asked.

"Because he's a freakin' homo and he'd rather fuck Dallas Winston up the ass," Angela yelled.

Not really.

She would have liked to share it, the juiciest piece of gossip in years, but she just couldn't. He was her oldest brother…no matter how messed up he got, she'd have to protect him.

"Cause he's got some dumb emotional complex. Thinks he ain't good enough."

A loud chorus of "aww"s went up. "Girls! I won't tell you again!" The teacher half rose from her seat.

"Oh, he's so hot," Heather repeated.

"But, how're you ever gonna get him?" Jenny pointed out. "Better off making a play for Dallas. He's still hot but at least he ain't a freakin' gang leader."

"Don't you already have a boyfriend?" Angela said scornfully.

Jenny waved her off. "Whatever. He's alright, but I'm getting bored with him. I'd rather have Dallas."

"Sylvia said he's been after her, though," Heather said.

"Actually…" Angela thought.

"Actually…" All three girls turned to look at Sandy. She leaned forward. "I heard he might, well… let's just say he might like Shakespeare more than any of us."

The girls gasped. "He's a homo?" Heather squealed.

"Who the hell told you that?" Angela said furiously.

"What's that? You don't wanna believe it? Guess you like Dallas more than you said," Sandy teased. She leaned back in her chair, grinning, obviously happy to have such a fantastic piece of gossip.

"No way. He's way too manly for that," Jenny said, shaking her head.

"Yeah, he's too tough."

"Whatever you say." Sandy shrugged. "But, I got it from a source that knows him well."

"I bet I know who," Angela thought darkly.

"Sylvia did say something about him running out on her," Heather said thoughtfully.

Angela looked quickly at each of the girls. She couldn't say anything. Even if she defended him, the thought was already in their heads. At least it was only Dallas, but if it ever leaked that he was messing with her brother… "Two-Bit Matthews I'm going to kill you," she thought.

* * *

A/N: Okay, I admit it. I have no clue when to use "than" rather than "then". Sorry about that, heh. 


	24. Chapter 24

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 24

A/N: In case you all haven't noticed, I do love to frustrate the guys just a bit. It's just so damn easy. Anyway, the point of this is that they're never quite satisfied, so every scene between them is gonna have a little sexual spark to it (at least, that's what I'm trying to convey, heh, maybe unsuccessfully). Therefore, yet again, I feel I may have to rate this chapter at least **approaching R**. (Shout-out to all the calculus nerds who laughed at that. Go derivatives!) They don't actually do much, but they'd really, really like to.

P.S. For those of you who don't know me from other fics, I love to ramble needlessly before the actual chapter. (I've tried to quit REALLY.) There's really nothing important that I'm saying. Just the **rated R** bit I guess, so I don't get ousted from the site. :

P.P.S. It's my birthday today hahaha…I feel old. :( :( Make me happy and tell me how to make this fic better!!!

* * *

Dallas stepped out of the shower, feeling warm and sleepy and clean. He was used to rolling out of bed before he really wanted to and jumping out of the shower feeling refreshed. Staying in bed until almost 6 o'clock at night was something he'd done rarely in his life, and mostly when he'd been sick. 

There was a tap on the door and Tim slipped inside, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. "Hey," Dally yelped, grabbing the towel and holding it defensively in front of him. "I'm not wearing anything."

Tim gave him an incredulous look. "Okay," he said slowly. "But, just so you know, the image of you naked and moaning in the middle of an orgasm is stuck in my head forever." He closed his eyes. "Oh, yeah, baby. Keep your towel on Dallas, I don't need any more visuals."

"Shut up," Dally said irritably. "I got the same on you."

In spite of himself, a part of Tim felt very uncomfortable about that. 'This is why you don't sleep with friends,' he thought.

Dallas tied the towel tightly around his waist. "You gonna let me get dressed?"

"Yeah," Tim said. "I just thought you might wanna grab a burger or something after."

"Yeah, I'm starved," Dallas said. Then he paused. "Unless…is that too much?"

"What do you mean?"

Dally shrugged. "I mean, I saw you yesterday afternoon, and since then we…well…"

Tim grinned. "We've been in bed since then, is what you're trying to say."

"And now we're getting food?"

Tim leaned against the door and folded his arms across his chest. "What, you're sick of me already?"

"No."

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"You don't want to go you don't have to," Tim said finally.

"No, I want to." Dally sighed. One of these days he was going to have to reign in his mouth. "I just meant…"

"You just meant…" Tim said exaggeratedly, looking at Dallas with the blank look he'd perfected.

To his surprise, Dallas grinned at him. "Oh, good, I knew you weren't really mad."

Tim pushed himself off the door. "What do you mean I ain't mad?"

Dally rolled his eyes. "You think you know me so well you got complete control over me? Well, I got news for you buddy." Dallas had moved forward until he was less than a couple of inches away from Tim. "I know you just the same as you know me, and none of your usual tricks is gonna work."

Completely shocked, Tim felt a frisson of desire course up his spine at having the tables turned on him so abruptly. If he'd been any less drained he would have jumped Dally right then. He was quiet for a minute.

Dallas leaned back, a cocky smirk on his face. He'd felt more like himself in the past five seconds than he had in a long time.

"Wipe that look of your face, you ain't got nothin' on me," Tim said in a low voice.

"You gonna make me?" Dally hissed back, but he had work to put the aggression in his voice. For a second he thought he'd fucked up.

"Damn straight I'm gonna make you." Tim never gave anything away. It was part of why he was so good in a fight. He just stared and stared until he'd practically got you hypnotized and then before you knew it…

Dallas found himself without a towel. "Hey!"

Tim laughed. "What? You didn't see that coming?" he taunted. "Thought you knew me that well, huh?" He laughed again and held the towel high above his head as Dally lunged towards him.

"Give it back, you fucker!" He reached for it, and Tim had him down in a second, pressed against the cool bathroom tile. "Fuck, man, I just took a shower."

"Uh-huh," Tim murmured. He kissed Dally's neck.

Dallas groaned, and pushed his hips up against Tim's. He winced as the rough material of Tim's jeans dragged across his skin.

Tim pushed himself up so he was straddling Dallas. "So, about that burger."

Dally squirmed. "Right now?"

Tim looked at him in disbelief. "Don't tell me you can go again. I just got you off twice!"

"That was ten minutes ago."

Tim shook his head, climbing off of the younger boy. "Man, I forgot what it's like when you're sixteen. Can't hardly control yourself for five minutes."

"And you can?" Dallas stood up reluctantly.

"Damn straight. I'm eighteen, I ain't no kid."

"Oh, really?" Dally moved forward quickly, slipping a hand down the front of Tim's jeans before he could protest.

"What the-" Tim was silenced by Dallas' mouth on his own. He pressed forward, deepening the kiss – Dally was always too hesitant. In his pants, Dallas' hand had gone in for the kill. Tim spread his legs giving his easier access. He might have stood a chance against resisting it had Dallas not twisted his other hand firmly in Tim's hair and pressed him back against the door. It was slowly dawning on Tim that he wasn't in charge at this moment. He groaned, moving his hips in time with Dally's caresses. He barely had the brainpower to wonder how Dally had got him going so easily.

Dally smiled against Tim's mouth. It had been a while since he'd seduced anyone – Tim was always such a control-freak – and it made him feel good. He'd been beginning to feel uncomfortably like a girl in Tim's bed. No matter how badly he wanted to be with Tim, he wasn't going to let either of them ever forget that he was a boy too, and just as tough (or nearly as tough, anyway) as Tim.

Tim was finding it very hard to catch his breath. He'd gotten so used to being the aggressor in all of his relationships, he'd forgotten how amazing it felt to have someone just pleasure him. Dally had let go of his hair and was using his hand to fend off Tim's attempts at reciprocation, until he finally pulled away from Tim's mouth long enough to say, "Hands _off_, Tim." Having nothing to think about besides his own pleasure, Tim was approaching his own climax a hell of a lot faster than he was used to. He found himself making a lot of the same noises that he was used to hearing from Dallas.

"Mmm, you like that, baby?" Dallas said sweetly in his ear before licking his way down Tim's neck.

"Oh, fuck, Dallas, I'm gonna come," Tim groaned. Any second now. Just a bit more…

"Oh, well then." Dally stepped away quickly. "I guess I better stop. We're both so clean now, and, well, you just got off twice right? Besides, I'm starved." He pulled Tim away from the door and slipped past him. "Meet you downstairs in five minutes." He turned away quickly, so Tim wouldn't see him grin. The look of shock in Tim's lust-clouded eyes had been _priceless_.

Tim's legs were shaking and he could feel himself dripping into his boxers. "You asshole, Dallas," he gasped. He'd forgotten how mean Dally could be.

* * *

It was like watching a storm building. At first there was just a hint, just a rumble in the distance. It got louder and louder until you couldn't ignore it anymore, and that's when the first fat drops of rain would hit your face. Even then, it wasn't much to worry about, at least not yet. But. the winds would kick up and the sky would darken and out of nowhere there's be a flash of lightening and a deafening crack and you'd know you were stuck right in the middle of it. 

Angela Shepard sat numbly at the Dairy Queen, watching the shit hit the fan. She should have said something, anything to stop the rumour from spreading, but Angela wasn't known for her tact. She wished she'd been her brother – Tim would have found the right words to put the thought out of everyone's minds without them even knowing it. She watched through narrowed eyes, as Heather Purchase gossiped away at the next table. Jenny Heckles was whispering in her boyfriend's ear.

"Hey there sweet-cakes, how's it blowing?" Two-Bit loped up behind her, giving her arm a teasing poke.

"You!" Angela said viciously. "I ought to scratch your eyes out!!!"

Two-Bit was taken aback. "What? What'd I do, honey?"

"Who the hell did you tell that Dallas was a fag?"

Two-Bit's mouth dropped open. "What?"

"It's over the whole damn school. You told Sandy didn't you?" Angela accused. "She's a loud-mouth and a gossip and you fucking told her that Dallas is a homo?"

Two-Bit was beside himself. He wanted to slap Angela; she was yelling, and there was more than one person listening curiously. "Keep your trap shut, Angel. You want to let the whole world in on it?" He said this carefully. Tim's sister wasn't known for her docile temper.

Angela set her jaw. "Why'd you do it? I don't care if you hate Dallas, you know what this'll do to Tim?"

Two-Bit shook his head. "I didn't do it," he said in a low voice, "and if you don't want people to know, it's mighty stupid to be talking about it here." He stood up, and walked out of the Dairy Queen. Standing alone by the gravel, he lit a cigarette and waited. A minute later, Angela was in front of him, scowling. He smiled, thinking that she looked an awful lot like Curly with her face set like that.

Angela took a deep breath. "Sandy told us today that someone told her that Dallas likes boys," she said quickly. "And if it wasn't you then who was it?"

Two-Bit looked at her carefully. "Who's us?"

"What does that matter? Who knows who Sandy's told already?" Angela brushed at her hair impatiently. "So, who told?"

Two-Bit shrugged. "No idea. I thought you and me were the only ones that know."

"And Curly."

"Curly knows?"

"Yeah, he told me this morning." Angela waved her hand at Two-Bit's stricken expression. "But, he won't tell, he's known for ages, and he threatened to slug me himself if I told."

"He's known for ages about Dallas, huh."

Angela shook her head. "No, about Tim…" she trailed off. "You think he told about Dallas?"

"Not if he wanted to keep Tim's secret."

Angela sighed. "Yeah, and he doesn't know Sandy, or any of us real well."

Sandy again, Two-Bit thought. He knew she'd be at the DX waiting for Sodapop to get off work soon. He made a mental note swing by there and have a chat with her. "So, who's us? And, don't tell me it doesn't matter."

Angela shrugged. "My group. Me, Sandy, Heather Purchase, Jenny Heckles, Cindy-"

"Wait, Julie Heckles knows?" Two-Bit said quickly.

"Jenny," Angela said annoyed.

"She's dating Donny Pinter."

"So?"

"So," Two-Bit said slowly. "You better hope whoever it was only spilled the beans about Dallas. Donny Pinter's in Tim's gang."


	25. Chapter 25

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 25

A/N: Alrighty, let's keep going…this isn't rated harshly. No sex.

* * *

Dallas let his eyes close, drinking in the evening's last bit of sun. It was devastatingly hot outside – just the way he liked it. His whole body was relaxed, lying down on the bench of a picnic table at the Dairy Queen – the only thing he needed now was some food.

Tim was a good deal less relaxed. He'd barely had time to splash himself with cold water before Dallas had dragged him out for some food. He'd been tripping over himself trying to avoid rubbing against the inside of his jeans, but it was no use. An eighteen-year-old, however tough, was no match against the will of his own dick.

Dally propped himself up on his elbows and watched Tim limping across the gravel carrying a couple of drinks and a paper bag. He smirked to himself, knowing exactly why Tim was having trouble. "You hurt your leg?" he called.

"Shut up," Tim snapped.

Dally laughed. "Bet I know what you're hungry for right now."

"Shut _up_." But, he was right. Tim could barely keep from grabbing Dallas right there and then.

Dally sat up quickly and scowled. "Quit lookin' at me that way, you want someone to know?"

Tim repressed a sigh, and sat down across from Dallas. The younger boy was so volatile – every second was an abrupt change in temper. He took a sip of his coke, and considered tossing it, ice and all, down the front of his pants.

Dallas tore open the paper bag. He hadn't eaten anything since he'd been hanging out with Soda and Steve the day before. He ripped into a sandwich, not even bothering to see what it was, and downed it in four bites. Then he reached for another one.

"Jesus, Dal." Tim laughed. "Ain't they feedin' you proper at home?"

Dally tore his second sandwich in half and crammed one of the pieces into his mouth. Home…he tried to remember when he'd last eaten a meal there. "Whaf oo alkee abo?" A good amount of his sandwich came back out.

"Gorgeous."

"'Ey! A eesh Ima mang gnot easing rike a fuckee girr." A/N: A prize for whoever figures this out…well, an imaginary prize. Hint: put a lot of food in your mouth and start talking – that's what I did. I believe in research. :)

Tim poked Dally's coke in front of him. "Drink, chew, swallow, _then_ speak."

Dally glared at Tim, then belligerently shoved the other half of his sandwich into his mouth. "Fuhgoo."

He'd spent the day being turned on by Dally covered in certain bodily fluids, but barbeque-sauce-coloured spit was not going to be one of them. "Here," Tim said, half-disgusted, handing Dallas a napkin.

Dally wiped his face on the tail of his shirt. "Sometimes you're too fucking polite for who you are Tim."

Tim chuckled. "Spoken like a true virgin."

"I am NOT a virgin!"

"Yeah, well, you can't have spent much time with girls if you eat like that," Tim said sceptically. "Even greasy girls don't like to see into your mouth when you chew."

"Well, I wasn't spending all my time draggin' them to the Dairy Queen," Dallas retorted. "And, I'm not dating a_ girl_ am I?"

"Not according to the town grapevine, anyway." Two-Bit hopped out of nowhere, settling down beside Dallas and helping himself to a few fries.

Dally jumped a little. "Where'd you come from?"

"What do you mean 'not according to the town'?" Tim said quietly.

"Wha…what did you say?" Dally looked at Two-Bit.

"He said, 'not according to the town grapevine, anyway' which I'm takin' to mean that people are talking about you or me," Tim said with more than a hint of impatience. He flicked his eyes for half a second at Dallas, and the younger boy felt strangely chastised. "Who the hell's been talking."

Two-Bit held his hands up defensively. "It wasn't me, man."

"I'm not asking you who it wasn't, I'm asking you who it was."

Doesn't sound like asking to me, Dallas thought. He watched Tim closely. It had been awhile since he'd seen the tough side of Tim, and while he wasn't sure if he liked it anymore, he had to admit it was effective.

"I dunno who started it, but Angela was raggin' on me for telling a buncha greasy girls. She was saying she heard it from Soda's girl, told her and Heather whats-er-face, you know, with the nice ass and tits like two cantaloupes. An' Tim, she told Jenny Heckles, too, from what I know."

Tim swore.

"What? Who's that?" Dally asked.

Tim shook his head. "How the hell did this bitch find anything out."

Two-Bit shrugged. "Dunno. I asked her, but Sandy ain't sayin' nothing. But, there's some good news, I guess."

"Wait, Sandy's been telling everyone?" Dally was having trouble following the conversation. He knew a couple of girls on the east-side, but not many. He'd only really been interested in them for a year.

"What's the good news," Tim said, ignoring Dallas.

Two-Bit glanced at the blond. "Well, it's only about him, not about you."

Tim exhaled slowly, and nodded.

"What? What news about me?" Dally was getting tired of being ignored.

"Shut up a second," Tim said shortly. "So, this ain't about Dallas and me. How the hell did anyone find out about only him."

Two-Bit shrugged. "Sandy won't tell me nothing. Broad's a fuckin' roller-coaster, running her mouth one minute, mouth like a steel trap the next. I get the feeling Sandy feels mighty bad about it. But, I dunno who she heard it from."

"You talked to someone." Tim was looking at him now.

"No," Dally said. "Maybe Angela told?"

"It wasn't Angela, ain't you been listening? Leave the figuring out to me." Tim reached in his shirt pocket for a cigarette. "You talked to someone," he repeated.

"_No,_" Dally said forcefully.

Tim looked at him. "You're either lying, or you forgot."

"I didn't talk!" Dally exploded.

"Quit drawin' attention to yourself, and think."

Dallas glared at Tim. He was so damn arrogant, always thinking he was right, always thinking he knew so much more than everyone else about everything…

"I didn't talk," he said slowly. "I swear, the only people that know are you, and Two-Bit, and Angela."

Tim wouldn't quit looking at him. Dallas wondered why he'd lit the cigarette if he was just going to hold it like that. "You're dumber than I thought. That kid, Sodapop, he was there when I saw you yesterday, and you jumped me right in front of him. You saying you didn't talk to him?"

Dallas opened his mouth quickly, and found he had nothing to say. "I didn't tell him," he said finally, frowning at nothing. He wished Two-Bit would leave. "He just guessed."

"And you confirmed." Tim didn't bother to ask it. He turned back to Two-Bit. "This Sodapop knows about us both, but for some reason only told his broad about Dallas." He shook his head. It didn't make much sense, but he'd figured out all he could with what he knew. "How much do people believe the rumour?"

Two-Bit shrugged. "They believed it a lot less before your sister flipped out on me." He shrugged. "I don't think it's a sure thing. I ain't heard it yet from any of the guys, and none of the girls want to believe it, from what Sandy said to me." He grinned at Dallas. "You're more popular than you'd think."

Tim shook his head. "You need to get yourself a girlfriend, now."

It took Dallas a minute to realise Tim was talking to him. "Why?"

"Don't be stupid. Maybe Sylvia, see if she'll have you since you already know her. You like her well enough?"

"I like _you_," Dally said irritably.

"You say that out loud again and I'll be gone so fast it'd make your head spin," Tim said evenly. "You find yourself a girlfriend or we're calling it quits for good."

He wasn't expecting that, and he knew it showed. Dallas felt like he'd been gut-punched. He stared at his hands wondering how the hell he'd managed to become so useless so quickly.

Tim watched him for a second, trying hard not to feel bad. He needed a cool head if he was going to fix the situation. "Thanks." He nodded at Two-Bit.

Two-Bit stood up slowly. "Sure," he said. He half-wanted to say something comforting to Dallas, but he knew no matter how miserable the blond was he'd never react with anything other than fury at being pitied.

Tim watched him walk away. He was thinking he ought to call up Carmen again. She'd been fun, and just needy enough. He needed to find someone who'd cling to him enough that it'd make sense to spend a lot of time with her, be seen with her at parties, at Buck's…

"I'm not getting a girlfriend."

Tim closed his eyes. Dallas would have to make this hard. He just didn't know.

"I'm not spending my time and money on a broad that I don't give a fuck about."

"Then find one you like," Tim said quietly.

Dally glared at the table. "I don't like any of them."

"Christ." Tim put his cigarette to his lips.

Dally looked up quickly. "I don't."

"Just find one you can stand. You don't gotta be in love for fuck's sake," Tim growled. "You were doing that less than a month ago, anyway. Why the hell's it different now."

Dallas said nothing. He was slowly pulling apart the napkin that Tim had given him. "I thought you said you didn't care who knew," he said, so quietly that for a minute Tim wasn't sure if he had actually spoken. Before he could answer, Dallas stood up. "Fine, I'll get a girlfriend. I'm goin' over to the Curtises, they oughtta be finished dinner. I'll ask Soda if he talked, an' head to Buck's later, see if I can pick up a girl or something." He crammed his hands into his pockets and looked impatiently in the direction Two-Bit had disappeared in. "Anything else?"

Tim shook his head. He was used to that kind of loathing look on Dally's face, but he didn't like it coming at him. He wished Dallas was better at controlling his feelings. "I'll see you later."

Dallas laughed meanly. "You think so, huh?"

Tim smiled, watching Dallas stalk off. He knew that mood, he'd dated that mood. It didn't take much to cure it. All he'd have to do was…

Do what? Tim thought. Buy Dallas a necklace? Some flowers? Say "I love you?" He didn't think he could hold a straight face through that one anyway. He might have been able to persuade Dally with sex, but the chances of him getting that close to the blond without getting slugged were mighty slim at the moment. Tim thought hard, trying to find a quick fix, but he was a fast thinker and he knew he'd been through all the options and none of them would work. He took a long drag off his cigarette. Waiting it out was not something Tim Shepard did well.


	26. Chapter 26

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 26

A/N: YESSS!!!! IT WORKS! Sorry, it's been awhile. That whole update feature fiasco and all.

P.S. Sugarmonkey...haha, TOTALLY.

P.P.S. Okay guys, through my incredibly lack of detail planning I've screwed up the ages of a couple of characters. I guess Angela's 14 and Sandy's 15...otherwise I have no clue how they ended up in the same class. My timeline's all over the place, sorry. I guess this is what happens when you just write whatever pops into your head at the moment, past chapters bedamned! But, I guess that's not really the point of this story anyway. It's a bit AU.

P.P.P.S. This is totally rated T. I've outsexed myself in the past couple chappies, so the two of them are gonna have to cool it for awhile. Sorry.

* * *

The walk to the Curtises' was too short for his rage. 

Dallas walked past the small house to the DX and back and still he didn't feel in control of himself. His mind kept spinning in a series of furious half-sentences:

_How could he... What does he think... I'm not a fucking homo. I just want..._

Every so often his anger would burn itself out, and he'd slow the pace of his walking. But, he'd begin to feel hurt, accompanied by a sharp sting of embarrassment at feeling hurt in the first place. And then he'd be angry again.

"Argh!" He kicked at a metal garbage can and it fell over with a crash. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"

He felt better.

The Curtises were doing the washing up when he arrived. "Hey Dallas," Darry said. "How's it going?"

Ponyboy looked at him. "Hey," he mumbled quickly, but it was enough for his voice to crack. He went red, looked down and tried scrubbing the pattern off the plates.

Dally grinned. He remembered that phase, being too scared to hardly speak half the time. "Trust me kid, puberty gets better," he said. Ponyboy took off pretty fast after that, bumping into Soda on the way out.

"Hey, what's the rush?" Soda grinned at Dallas. "What's going on?"

With the quickness of temper he was famous for, Dallas let his rage loose on the unsuspecting Sodapop.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" he yelled, before tackling the younger boy to the ground. "I oughtta beat your head in, you stupid, lying, stupid...stupid..."

He was so mad he couldn't even swear right. Dallas didn't usually go blind in a fight. He didn't usually miss when he swung. He was all tired out from the walk, that's what it was.

Dally was being hauled off Sodapop before he knew it. He backed away, gasping, swearing...no, he was being dragged. He let himself be moved towards the door, watching Darry hold Soda back. Darry looked confused, but then Dally wasn't seeing straight. He wondered who was pulling him if it wasn't Darry.

"Get off me, shit, I'll kill that fucker," Dallas groaned, leaning against the porch railing. He tried to breathe - he was dangerously close to breaking down and he wasn't even sure why. "It just came out of nowhere." His voice was cracking like Ponyboy's.

"I love ya, kiddo, but I ain't gonna let you kill one of my boys," Mrs. Curtis said dryly.

Dallas almost shit himself. He took a breath instead. "I'm sorry," he managed.

She sighed. "What's this all about?"

Dally shook his head and took in another breath. Did she say she loved him? He tried not to think about it.

She put her hand on his back. "Listen, Sodapop can be high spirited. He gets on my nerves every so often, but you ain't gonna find no sweeter baby in all of Oklahoma. All you gotta do is say something. Alright?"

"There ain't nothing to say," Dallas said. He was very conscious of the fact that her hand was still on his back. One second it made him feel good and warm, the next second he wanted to kill someone, the next second he was thinking about sex, the next second he hated himself for being a pervert. He breathed in again.

She leaned in close enough that he had to look at her. She was smiling. He couldn't figure it out. "Not even a couple a words? Come on. Nothing wimpy, nothing girly. Just sum it up in a nice butch sentence."

He choked on a laugh and breathed in some more.

She laughed with him. "Come on, kid, humour an old lady, willya? Ten words...five words, how about that? Just five words, Dallas."

He opened his mouth and all the air he'd taken in rushed out instead of words. Dallas hadn't even realised he'd been holding his breath.

Mrs. Curtis sighed. "Well, when you're ready to talk...I'll listen. Soda'll listen. Anytime. But, there ain't a gee-dee reason for jumping my son on my nice, clean kitchen floor. Savvy?"

He nodded. She turned to leave.

"I don't wanna lose him."

He could hear her high heals pause on the concrete of the porch. Dallas always liked the sound of heels on cement. It reminded him of too many good nights.

"Who's that, honey?"

"He's my best friend." Dallas couldn't believe he was still talking. The sky was apple coloured in front of him. He couldn't remember ever seeing it like that.

"What..."

Dallas shook his head. "Forget it," he said. He knew what he had to do. "I just gotta talk to Soda," he tried to explain.

"O...kay." There was the sound of the screen door opening behind him. He heard Soda's voice, getting closer.

"What going on, Dallas?"

Dally squinted at Sodapop. backed by the harsh kitchen light. He didn't even look mad. "You deserved the jumping. You told your fucking broad about...about..."

Soda moved onto the porch, letting the screen slam shut. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about your big-mouthed broad talking shit about me all over town."

"Sandy?" Soda looked alarmed. "She wouldn't do nothing like that."

Dallas rolled his eyes. "Tell you something Soda, you're fucking a bitch."

Soda's jaw clenched. "Don't you call her that. Sandy wouldn't tell no one. She's not that kind of person."

"But, you are, huh?" Dallas sneered.

Soda reddened. "I..." He looked down. "I'm sorry, man. I really thought she wouldn't tell."

"That ain't the point, and you know it." Dallas was getting mad again.

"I'm sorry, Dally, I really am. I just had to talk to somebody." Soda's eyes were wide, almost dripping with sincerity.

Dallas tried to repress the urge to punch him. "What did you tell her, exactly?"

"I just said I had this friend who was dating a guy, and he wasn't getting any more sex than I am."

"That is so not true!"

"Yeah it is. Last time we talked you said you didn't even LIKE sex."

Dallas crossed his arms. "That was ages ago."

"That was last week."

"Shut up!"

Dallas was mad again, or he wouldn't be running his mouth. "I like sex just fine and I'm getting a hell of a lot more of it than you are. Virgin."

Soda held up his hands. "Fine. You like sex. I'm sorry." He scuffed his shoes against the porch.

"You told her it was me. And she spread it all over the fucking town. Didja tell her about...about..._him_, too?"

Soda shook his head.

"So, you just decided to screw me, huh."

"I'm sorry," Soda said again, in a small voice.

"You shouldn't have told her," Dally said sourly. "You've ruined everything."

"I really thought she wouldn't tell." Soda sighed. "Look, I'll help you fix it okay? Whatever you want, I'll do it."

Dally went quiet.

"Well, not that."

"That's not what I was thinking," Dally snapped. "I need a girlfriend."

Soda looked at him, confused. "Did you...break up?"

Dally glared at him. "Fuck off, Soda. I ain't gonna tell you nothing anymore."

Soda sighed. "Okay. So, you want a girlfriend. What do you need me for?"

Dally shifted uncomfortably. "You're good with girls."

Soda grinned. "Yeah?"

"Don't make me hit you."

Soda laughed. "Okay. Listen, you've got a good enough rep to attract 'em. Girls are easy. You just gotta listen to what they want, and do it more than anyone else. You gotta be willing to do what no one else is for them. And you gotta make sure they know that you don't mind doing it one bit, because they're the most amazing person you've ever met, and they deserve the world."

Dallas was quiet. "So...I lie?"

Soda rolled his eyes. "Well, ideally no," he said dryly.

"But, you said-"

"Listen, you can lie, and if you're good at it, you'll get what you want from them." Soda paused. "But, it makes you one hell of an asshole."

Dally blinked. "Lying it is."

"And if they find out, you better take cover. There ain't nothing on earth more scary than a rampaging chick."

Dallas thought back to Angela's temper tantrums. "Boy, you ain't kidding."

"You got someone in mind?"

Dallas shrugged. Sylvia wasn't a bad idea, now that he'd calmed down enough to think about it. "Whatever I can get."

"Good luck," Soda said, laughing. "Me an' Stevie an' Two-Bit are going down to The Dingo with the girls. You wanna come?"

"Go down to that shit hole with you and the missus, and two other idiot couples? Yeah, that sounds like tons of fun," Dally said sarcastically.

"It ain't a bad place to pick up girls. If you're looking for a girlfriend, it's better than Buck's," Soda pointed out.

Dally thought quickly. Soda was right. Buck's was great for getting some - plenty of drunk, willing chicks there. The Dingo was usually a little more sober, and he wanted whatever efforts he made tonight to be remembered.

"Fine, I'll go down with you and the mouth."

Soda frowned. "Don't do anything to her Dally, or I'll have to kick your ass."

Dallas laughed so hard he almost cracked a rib.

* * *

Tim swallowed the last of his coke and gave the room another once over. Nothing. He'd been looking for his ex-girlfriend, but no one seemed to know where she'd been. He'd kept an eye on the door, nursing a coke and occasionally making conversation with the few people who approached him. So far, no one was interesting. 

The door swung open again and Angela stomped in, surrounded by her clique. The room seemed to get smaller and louder all at once. They settled into a booth on the opposite side of the room, but Angela quickly caught sight of her brother and flounced over.

"Whatcha doing all alone," she said scornfully. "Don't you usually have some idiot tagging along with you?"

Tim took in a breath and then exhaled all of his desire to search out Dallas. "What do you want, Angel," he said tiredly.

Angela looked at him. "You know, you could get any girl you want," she said finally. "Why don't you just find a nice girlfriend and quit that shit."

Tim frowned. He didn't want her talking about him, especially in a public place. But, a sudden thought had occurred to him and he didn't want to push her away yet. If anyone knew the current gossip it would be Angela - she knew everyone's business, and best of all, knew the girls themselves.

"Who would you recommend?" he asked, idly playing with his empty glass.

Angela looked surprised. "Anybody. Anyone's better than...well."

Tim swung around in his seat. "Well, who here then."

Angela followed his gaze into the restaurant. "Uh, well, Jenny Heckles -"

"No."

"Okay, Bonnie Thompson is single."

Tim followed her gaze. The girl was blonde, had a pretty face, a nice chest, good, good...and a skirt down to her ankles.

"No."

"Cindy Harris?"

Brown hair, short, curvy, _loud_.

"No."

"Linda Tellman?"

"No."

"Sarah MacDowell?"

"No."

"How about a nice cat?"

Tim spiked his next coke from a flask he'd brought. The drunker he was the better the selection got.

"Okay," he said, gulping down half the rum and coke in one swallow and the other half in the next. "Pick one. A good looking one, not loud, not a doper, not flat, not boring. Better if she's easy. And has a nice ass."

"Do you think I'm a boy?" Angela said frostily.

Tim ignored her. "Pick one, and make it good cause she's my next girlfriend."

"How about Natalie Wood?"

"Shut up, Angel, I'm serious," Tim growled.

"Okay," she said.

The minutes ticked by.

"_Angela_."

"All the good ones are taken Tim."

"Who are the good ones?"

"They're _taken_ -"

"Damnit, who are the good ones."

Angela sighed gustily. "My group," she said finally.

"Angela, I ain't about to date a fourteen-year-old."

"They ain't all fourteen. Sandy's fifteen."

"Angela..." He stopped. Looked over at Sandy's table. She wasn't the most beautiful girl on the planet and Lord knew he wasn't crazy about her right now. But, he sure as hell owed her one for Dallas. And he was just buzzed enough to go through with it.

"Alright," he murmured. "That's good enough." He caught the blonde's eye, and winked, then felt like grinning when she turned pink.

He popped a mint to clear his breath and followed Angela back to her table, ignoring her scowls and whispered protests. The girlfriend search could wait.


	27. Chapter 27

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 27

A/N: For the longest time I thought The Dingo was a drive-in movie theatre. Then somewhere along down the line my view got changed to a drive-in restaurant. I'm ignoring the drive-in part.

P.S. This chapter is quite a bit more serious than the past chapters. Almost humourless in fact.

P.P.S. This chapter is again rated M. The way things are going (and it's totally Tim's fault not Dallas') I may have to re-rate this whole story M, as these guys aren't going to get any cleaner. But, I'd rather not, as M stories aren't automatically displayed. So unfair!!! Let me know what you think.

P.P.P.S. Hmm, okay, I just finished this chapter, and it is DARK.

**WARNING**: Rated M definitely, for sexual content, and some messed up shit at the end. Seriously do not read this if you are under...whatever age it's supposed to be. For once, I'm really serious about this okay? It's a lot darker than I meant it to be.

* * *

The Dingo was packed when they arrived. It was busy and hot and smoky. It took Dallas a minute for his eyes to adjust to the light and by then Soda was halfway to a table in the back and hollering at him to follow. He followed warily, but the only people sitting at the table were Steve and Two-Bit. He slid into the booth behind Soda. 

"Girls ain't here yet," Steve said. Two-Bit raised an eyebrow at Dallas and said nothing.

"Go figure. Sandy ain't never been on time a day in her life I bet." Soda grinned and shook his head. "You order yet?"

Dallas tuned out their chatter and scanned the room. He wanted this to go as quickly as possible. He locked eyes Angela sitting a short ways away, and to his surprise she waved him over. He crossed the distance quickly, suddenly thinking that since she knew about him and her brother, she would be the perfect candidate to fake date...

One look at the sneer on her face and he scrapped that idea. She separated from the group of girls and pressed up close enough to whisper in his ear.

"Well, well, if it ain't my brother's bitch."

He jerked back quickly and fought the urge to slap her. He was on thin ice with Tim already. "Whaddaya want Angela?"

Angela looked at him warily. She kept the sneer on her face, hiding the warring thoughts in her head. On one hand she couldn't believe what her brother was doing. She didn't want to hurt her friend. On the other hand, she knew what her little piece of information would do to Dallas, and she was in a mood to inflict some pain.

"Just thought you might like to know who Tim's taken to the back tonight," she said viciously and watched the flicker of longing pass through Dally's eyes before he turned mad.

Then to her surprise, he gave her a snake-like smile. "Maybe I take a different Shepard out for some fun tonight," he said.

Dallas moved forward wrapping his hands around her waist a little too tightly. He wanted to hurt her. He could sense her fear and her mind moving quickly. She got the same stony look in her eyes that Tim did when his mind was racing - she was as tough chick as he'd ever met.

"My, my, you are making your way through the pack," drawled a bored voice from behind him. "You gonna run out on her too?"

He let go of Angela. "Sylvia. It's been awhile."

She smiled back at him. "Yeah, well, you ain't exactly been looking for me."

Dallas lit a cigarette, taking his time, studying her. He remembered her being more girly, more delicate. It must have been an act to seduce him. If it had been an act, she'd miscalculated - the tough little broad with hard eyes standing before him was more his style than the simpering, breathy thing she'd tried to be before.

"As a matter of fact," he said slowly, "that's why I'm here tonight."

Sylvia gave him an incredulous look. "You've had two chances. You fucked them up."

Dallas let a smile creep onto his face, keeping his eyes hard and on hers. He licked his lips, knowing it made him look like a predator. He'd long since figured out that girls liked to be pursued, and he knew his air of dangerousness was what made him the most attractive.

"Well, honey, looks like I got one strike left, wouldn't ya say?" he murmured, slipping close to her.

Sylvia threw her head back, laughing callously. "What makes you think I'm stupid enough to go for you again?" she said scornfully.

Dallas wasn't fooled. "Now come on, darlin'. I ain't such a bad choice." He paused, deciding to take Soda's advice. "I know a worthwhile deal when I see one." He put a hand on her back, gently urging her towards him. "Just tell me what I gotta do, and I'll do it, baby."

She melted into him - was it really that easy? The guarded look in her eyes was still there, but it was playful now. "You got a lot to make up for, Dallas."

"Baby, I got all night long to make up for it."

"Please!" Angela's haughty voice grated on his nerves. "You ain't gonna fall for that Sylvia?" She pushed his shoulder roughly. "Besides you're blonde - I thought you like black hair better, Dallas." She gave him a smug look.

Dallas wrapped his arm around Sylvia's waist. She let him. He smirked triumphantly at Angela. "Don't worry Angel," he said, letting the sarcasm drip from his words. "You're a good solid second best."

Dallas turned from her look of loathing feeling more in control, more like himself, more powerful than he had in weeks. He could feel Sylvia's pleasure at being singled out. He caught Two-Bit's eye as he sauntered towards the bar. The greaser's eyebrow was cocked in his signature expression, but Dallas could have sworn his smirk was almost disapproving. It made Dallas feel almost happy.

* * *

"He's getting himself into a world of trouble with that one," Two-Bit murmured. 

"Who?" Steve craned his neck, trying to spot Dallas. "What Sylvia? Didn't he go with her before?"

Soda shrugged. "I ain't heard much about her, but she hangs with Sandy."

Two-Bit tossed a fry at him. "Just cause she breathes the same air as your broad don't make her a saint."

"Since when has Dallas needed a saint? Since when has Dallas BEEN a saint?" Steve laughed.

Soda joined him. "She's probably got the worse end of the deal," he joked.

Two-Bit shook his head. "What ever you say little man, it just seems wrong." He paused, cocked an eyebrow. "Though for the life of me I can't see him doing anything right."

"Dally's a big boy, Two-Bit," Steve said, taking a drag on his smoke. "Don't see what you're all worked up for."

Two-Bit shrugged. He wasn't exactly sure either.

Soda sighed. "No, it does seem fishy that he's after her. I dunno why," he added quickly, seeing Two-Bit's look.

Two-Bit smirked. "He's the only one without a date, and he's got a girl wrapped around him before any of us do...that's fishy."

"Damn broads," Steve grumbled. "Can't never be on time."

* * *

Tim took a final drag off his cigarette and crushed in under his heel. He was propped up against the back of the diner, watching Sandy in the low light as she took a few nervous puffs on her own cigarette. She met his eyes, then quickly looked away. Tim smiled. This was going to be too easy. 

"So..." She cleared her throat. Sandy didn't know why Tim had asked her out for a smoke - she didn't know why she'd come out. She had no idea what to say.

"So," Tim said in exaggerated imitation, pushing off the wall and moving so he was less than a foot away. "I heard you've been talking about Dallas."

Sandy breathed in quick. "It was just a rumour, I didn't even make it up," she said hurriedly.

Tim put a finger under her chin, made her look at him. He smiled slowly, coldly. "Made me laugh, doll."

She breathed out in relief, and rewarded him with a quick smile. She was beautiful when she smiled, he had to give her that.

"I thought...Two-Bit Mathews told me I shouldn't have said anything. He said it'd caused a lot of trouble for Dallas. I didn't mean it," she said miserably.

Tim laughed. "Don't you worry. He'll be just fine."

"Yeah?" She smiled up at him again.

"Yeah. Ol' Dally's got a rep that can take that shit in stride," he continued, letting his hand trail down her arm. "Got some fight in him to back it up, too."

Sandy looked up at the most infamous hood in Tulsa. Her breathing quickened when he touched her waist. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." He moved in closer. "Ol' Dally, he's one of the toughest guys in town. Ain't no one that'd mess with him unless they want a beating."

With both of Tim's hands wrapped around her waist, Sandy was beginning to feel a little nervous. "Yeah, he sure is tough," she whispered to the toughest guy around.

"Yeah..." He leaned down, close to her ear. "Ol' Dally, he's got some good friends around." His grip tightened, but didn't bite. He was in this for the fun of it only; Tim Shepard didn't beat on chicks. He didn't have too.

Sandy sucked in a breath when he pressed against her. He ran his fingers up her back, supporting her body with one hand. Her knees felt weak.

"He knows all the best people to know," Tim whispered in her ear, then kissed it. "And, the worst." He slipped a hand up her thigh, under her skirt. "A lot of people'll back up Ol' Dally."

Sandy stared into the eyes of a gang-leader. He was tough, but his eyes were warm, intense, bright blue in the light of the street lamp. She thought frantically of Sodapop, her heart pounding in fear. "Ol' Dally?" she stammered.

Tim smiled, all seduction. "Ol' Dally," he agreed, his breath warm on her skin. "He'll be just fine. I wouldn't think about him no more."

Sandy knew she was a lost cause when he got his fingers in her panties. Tim was three years older, he knew a helluva lot more than Soda when it came to sex. His touch was gentle, firm, all-knowing. She was gasping in pleasure before she knew it.

"I have a boyfriend," she managed.

"I wouldn't think about him either," Tim said smoothly.

"I have to go," she begged.

Tim laughed. "You ain't going nowhere," he said pleasantly.

Sandy thought she'd cry, but she moaned instead. She could run for it, or scream. He was the toughest greaser in town...

"Ol' Dally, he's just like the rest of us," Tim hissed in her ear. "Anyone get in his way, he wouldn't hesitate to take 'em out."

She whimpered lightly, squirming in his hands. What he was doing felt so good...

Tim stifled a groan. He was through being patient. "But, you be nice to him, and he'll be nice to you. Show you a real good time."

He unzipped his pants.


	28. Chapter 28

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 28

A/N: Okay, the last chapter was probably too mean for this story. Back to the humour...so...more Two-Bit, natch.

P.S. OMG! I've lost my humour abilities! Everything's coming up angst. I'm so depressed! I may cry.

WHERE HAVE ALL THE FUNNIES GONE.

P.P.S. WHERE?!

* * *

Dallas stretched, luxuriating in the afterglow of sex. He was strangely satisfied, for all that he'd resisted the plan. Having a girl curled against his chest, feeling her soft hair against his neck...it felt to him like coming home. Maybe it wasn't where he wanted to be, but he was comfortable. He was in his element again. 

He rubbed a hand up Sylvia's back, listening to her breathe. It hadn't been so difficult after all. Not so emotional. In fact, though it'd certainly been pleasurable, he'd felt strangely detached throughout the whole episode. He'd been able to just relax and enjoy the view (and girls were so pretty, after all). He'd been in control, commanding, the aggressor on every point and she'd responded exactly as she should have. It had been almost soothing.

It had been almost boring.

He hadn't missed Tim during the act, but he couldn't help comparing now that it was over. He thought back to the day they'd spent lounging in bed, compared it with the night he'd just had.

Being with Tim was more intense than anything he'd experienced. The buzz of nerves he'd felt when he'd kicked things up with Sylvia was gentle compared to the wash of lust he had felt with Tim, the desire, the desperation, the blind terror... It wasn't comfortable, not by any standard.

Sylvia was comfortable, he mused, running his fingers idly through her hair. She felt right is a dozy, gentle, blurry way. She met all his needs.

Tim gave him needs he could barely control.

Sylvia he could take for granted. He could deal with her, he could think about his own shit, talk to his own friends, take care of his own business...

Tim followed his every thought like a tiny hitchhiker in his mind that he just couldn't shake.

Sylvia was satisfying, filling him with a warm contentment.

Tim was overblown, crazy, kick-you-in-the-head sensation like every nerve in his body on fire, like going mad, like every thought caught in a wild whirlwind, like out of control, like completely, totally and helplessly...

It was like comparing an orgasm to a sneeze.

Dallas shifted on the bed; he could have easily gone again, but Sylvia was out, sleeping soundlessly on his chest.

She murmured, shifted with him. He could feel her mouth against the skin of his neck. The pressure was comforting. It was warm.

When Tim kissed him it was like falling off a building.

Granted, he was dizzy with confusion enough of the time that it felt more like Tim had pushed him.

Which was all part of the problem, he thought. Never knowing what he was supposed to be doing, always tripping over himself worrying that he was doing it wrong, worrying what Tim thought, worrying what everyone _else_ thought and worrying about what his worrying was doing to Tim, and now worrying about when it was _okay_ to be worrying about shit that he'd never given a damn about before in his life.

Dallas Winston wasn't the worrying type. He did whatever the fuck he wanted to, and damn it if he wasn't going to do it now. The hell what everyone else thought.

Dally pulled Sylvia in tight to his chest. Trouble was, who was ever embarrassed to be caught sneezing?

* * *

Sandy was wrapped around Soda so tightly Two-Bit could have sworn he was turning blue. 

She'd come in from out of nowhere, looking disheveled and desperate to find Soda but when she found him she refused to tell him what was wrong. Just stuck to him like gum.

Two-Bit yawned. He was bored. Steve and Evie had backed off somewhere to make out in peace (Two-Bit had spent a while referring to them both as "Stevie" and - Evie having long, pointed nails and a temper like Lucifer - was sorrier for it). Soda was cooing at Sandy like a drunk pigeon and she was whispering over and over that she loved him. And Kathy had stood him up. There were too many pretty girls around for him to care much, but Two-Bit was through sitting still.

"Listen, Sody-pop," he drawled, cutting into Sandy's whispered chant. "Much as I like to sit here watchin' my nails grow, I think I'm gonna take off."

Soda nodded sedately. "Sure," he said, a dopy look on his face. Two-Bit wondered if Sandy's squeezing had cut off the oxygen to his brain - but no, she just had her leg up against his crotch.

He ambled over to the bar, ordered a coke and a burger and wished for the hundredth time that they'd get their damn liquor license already. He barely taken a bite when he was whacked squarely between the shoulder blades.

"What in the name of all that's edible..." he turned quickly. Angela stood behind him, classic scowl, classic hands-on-hips pose, classic teeny-tiny skirt.

He gave her the once over. "Well, well, well, you do look mighty pleased to see me, if I do say so myself."

She folded her arms across her chest. "Buy me a coke."

Two-Bit obliging held out his own, which she took without thanks.

"So, what's up Angela," he asked lazily. He hadn't spent any time with her since the night at Buck's a couple of weeks before, but he'd seen her around plenty. She never looked bad, and he was currently without a date.

She shrugged. "You owe me a movie," she said accusingly.

Charming broad, Two-Bit thought, raising an eyebrow almost by habit alone. "So, I do." He grinned. "Don't suppose you're into skin flicks."

"Don't be filthy," she snapped.

Two-Bit looked at her skirt. "Hmm," he said.

The next he knew, he was wearing his coke.

"You oughtta learn some manners," Angela said hotly.

Two-Bit lifted the drenched tail of his shirt. "Oh, sorry, m'lady. I should have offered to help you throw that coke. Must have been a terrible strain."

He watched her huff off, and cast a longing look at the bar. Still no booze.

"101," he counted outloud.

* * *

Tim inhaled the last drag on his cigarette, dropped it, ground it out under his heel and had another lit by the time he'd exhaled. The sex had made him nervous, guilty, like he'd missed something and now he'd have to work at pretending he hadn't. He'd felt damn good for about a minute when it was done (and for many long minutes while it was going on). He'd felt victorious. But, then she'd looked at him with those big blue eyes, said in a deadened voice that she hoped he wouldn't tell anyone and that her boyfriend would be missing her. Tim had felt like backhanding her, but he waited until she left before he let himself show anything but self-satisfaction. 

Now he was pissed. He knew there wasn't a reason for it, knew it was masking another emotion he didn't feel like dealing with. He saw it in Dallas all the time - hurt, bewildered, confused, needy - everything came out in a wild rage. But, he didn't really care to analyze himself anymore. He'd done what he intended to do and was ready to move on.

He needed to find a girlfriend still. Sandy would have been plenty to deal with if she'd broken up with her boyfriend, but as it was he didn't really want her too. If he'd been thinking at all properly he wouldn't have touched her at all - she was dating the only person he didn't trust who knew his secret.

Tim finished off his cigarette and started another. After the next I'll find a girlfriend, he told himself. He needed to calm down, needed to be patient. Nothing in his situation was desperate; only Dallas had had any assault on his reputation.

One quick thought of the tow-headed teen and Tim thought he'd blow up. He slammed his fist into the brick wall of the diner. It hurt. It felt good. He hit it again, again, the cigarette dropping out of his mouth.

A minute later he was sitting on the pavement - he thought his hand might be broken. "Stupid," he said outloud. It wasn't something he felt often. Tim stared out into the deserted alley, and clumsily lit his last cigarette.


	29. Chapter 29

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 29

A/N: Hooray! The comic gods have feasted and handed me a couple scraps for this chappie. Well...at least I think it's funny. I guess, you'll all see for yourselves.

P.S. This chapter was incredibly fun to write, as I have a three-hour exam tomorrow morning that I'm avoiding studying for. Anyone noticed how fantastically easy it becomes to write fics when there's something more "important" that you know you should be doing? School is bum.

P.P.S. I really have to wrap this story up soon. I didn't realize that it's one update away from turning thirty. :P

* * *

When he woke up again Dallas was alone. He stretched, comfortably warm in the large bed by himself. Sylvia must have took off, he mused. He didn't much care why. 

He checked the time on a clock beside the bed - it read half-past noon. Oh well, Dallas thought with a grin. He hadn't gone to sleep particularly early, and he'd been "exercising" plenty before he fell asleep.

He grabbed his clothes and trotted to the bathroom where he took a quick shower and dressed. He felt unusually full of energy. Dallas bounded down the stairs and almost ran straight into Buck who, from the looks of him, was just waking up to a particularly nasty hangover.

"Howdy Buck," Dallas said grinning. "Have a good night?"

Buck winced and rubbed his eyes. "Don't 'member." He eyed Dallas as the blond pushed past him. "Heard you had a pretty good one though."

Dally beamed. He'd forgotten how good it felt to brag the day after. "Wasn't bad," he said modestly. He smirked to think about how Buck had found out. "You heard huh?"

Buck groaned and sat on the steps. "The whole place heard you rattlin' the headboards with Sylvia last night."

Dallas laughed. "You hear her too?"

Buck shook his head, then groaned again at the effects it had on his hangover. "Not last night, but she confirmed it just now." He waved vaguely over his shoulder. "She still in the bar, so you might wanna take off, quick."

Perfect, Dally thought, pleased for once that the girl had stuck around the morning after. "Not today, Buck," he said, giving the man a slap on the shoulder as he headed towards the bar.

It wasn't much of a bar really, just a couple of stools and a boxy cabinet next to the kitchen. It always amazed Dallas that Buck could maintain his illegal set up as loudly and as long as he had.

Sylvia was perched on one of the stools, sipping water and dressed in last night's clothes. She glanced at Dallas when he entered, looking surprised. She wasn't dumb by any means - it was obvious she hadn't expected to see him again, at least not to soon.

"Mornin' sunshine," he greeted her. He slipped an arm around her waist and took a swallow from her water glass. "How's it hanging?"

She stared at him, amazed. "Alright," she said slowly. She took a long drink from her glass, watching him carefully.

"Feelin' pretty good myself," Dallas agreed. He pushed back her messy hair and kissed her on the top of her head. "I got some stuff to do today, but word has it there's a party here again tonight. What say I pick you up around 9?"

Sylvia choked on her water. "A party? With me? Tonight?"

Dally shrugged, feigned nonchalance. He knew it was unusual, but he figured if he was going to get a girlfriend, he may as well jump in with both feet. No sense beating around the bush.

"We could hit a movie if you want," he offered.

Sylvia smiled, still looking confused. "The party's fine," she said. "I was planning on coming anyway." She gave him a curious look, but didn't say anything else.

Dallas nodded. "Well, then you'll come with me," he said. "You got an address?"

Sylvia hesitated. "I'll meet you here," she said finally.

"Fine. I'll see you at 9."

She opened her mouth to speak and Dallas leaned in, quickly covering her mouth with his. He kissed her as deep as he dared and pulled back slowly, lingering a half an inch from her mouth. "See ya, Sylvia."

He pulled her upright (he hadn't even realized he'd been holding her up) and smirked at the dizzy look on her face.

Dallas jogged out of Buck's into the sunshine feeling like a million dollars. The feeling lasted exactly seventeen seconds before he started thinking about Tim.

* * *

Tim woke up quickly and immediately wished he hadn't. 

"Ohhhhhh fuck," he groaned, burrowing down into his covers and clasping his hands around his head. His brain felt like it'd grown to three times it's previous size and was beginning to ooze out his eyes.

He gasped when he grabbed his right hand. Pain seemed to shoot up through his bones into his arm and his hand began to throb mercilessly. Tim gritted his teeth and forced his eyes open to examine his hand.

It was twice the size it was supposed to be and was purpling right on cue. Every one of the nails was rimmed with blood and his knuckles were scraped clear of all skin. He allowed himself a small moan before rolling over and climbing out of bed. He felt like he'd slammed his whole body into a wall.

He cast bleary eyes across his room and realized with a start that there was a bra draped across his lampshade. Tim rubbed his eyes with his good hand. The bra was still there. Behind him he heard a body roll over and sigh gently. He couldn't bring himself to turn around.

Tim pushed himself to his feet and almost killed himself tripping over his jeans, which were still wrapped around one ankle. He kicked them off and limped to the bathroom. In addition to feeling like he'd been in a train wreck, there was an ache in his groin that he could only attribute to overuse.

He remembered drinking with a carelessness he wasn't used to. He remembered a lot of girls, and a couple of slaps. He remembered Sandy...but surely he hadn't brought her back?

Maybe it was Dallas, Tim thought hopefully. Maybe he'd run into him after getting smashed, and the blond had helped him home. And brought his bra for good measure.

Tim splashed his face with cold water, trying to wake up his brain. He couldn't for the life of him remember who he'd brought home and was not particularly desperate to find out. Still...he had to get her out of his bed. He wondered how he could have been stupid enough to bring a girl home.

He staggered back to the bedroom as stoically as possible, resolved to find out who his mystery date had been. He barely gotten to the door when Angela barreled out of his room, bouncing off his chest in her haste.

Her eyes widened to cartoonish proportions, and, gesticulating wildly, she opened her mouth and half-whispered, half-shreiked: "You brought a GIRL home?!"

Tim backed away, shushing her as quietly as possible.

"I can't believe you managed to get anyone to come home with you," she hissed, ignoring his frantic signals for her silence. "You are NOT an attractive drunk."

"Thank you, darling sister," Tim muttered. He rubbed his eyes again, trying to rid himself of his rapidly intensifying headache.

"You spit when you talk. And dump your drinks all over yourself."

"Angel-"

"You can barely walk or speak. You make stupid jokes and forget the punch-lines."

"_Angela_-"

"You used the ladies' room. And you were sick on the flowers right outside of the Dingo."

"Oh, for the love of-"

"Two-Bit Mathews tried to drive you home and you slapped his ass."

Tim slid down the wall and buried his face in his arm. This was why he didn't like to drink. He was too prone to doing stupid things.

Angela shut up. Tim's moments of vulnerability were so few and far between that seeing him so miserable made her feel uncharacteristically guilty. She left him alone and tiptoed to the edge of his bedroom, peering inside at the sleeping form in her brother's bed

_"Get away from the door, Angela."_

"Oh, relax, she's sleeping," Angela whispered back.

Tim glared up at his sister as she peeped into his bedroom. He debated whether he should yell at her or cuss her out for prying into his business, but his curiosity got the better of him. Cursing his wimpiness, he motioned for her to come close.

"Who is it?" he whispered.

Angela stared at him. "Shouldn't you know?" she said disgustedly.

Tim gave her a look. "How drunk do you think I had to be to slap Mathews on the ass?"

Angela rolled her eyes. "It's Carmen," she said finally.

Tim sighed with relief. At least he'd managed to do one thing right.

He crawled up the wall to a standing position and stood still for a minute, watching Angela flounce down the stairs and trying to get his head to stop spinning. He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the cool wall.

The rapid creaking of the steps and a soft swearing brought him round again.

"Shepard."

Tim's eyes flew open. He stared horrified as Dallas came bounding up the steps. The blond refused to look at him, a sneer fixed on his face, his voice bored.

"Just thought you might like to know how your plan's going..." Dally's voice trailed off. The reason was obvious.

Carmen had brown curls, falling untamed down to her shoulders and caramel skin. She was a beauty, but her drop-of-a-hat ability to don a simpering wet look in her eyes and her aggressively manipulative nature had driven Tim up the wall the last time they'd gone out. She had a jealous streak a mile wide but few rules when it came to restricting herself. She came out from Tim's bedroom wearing her skirt and bra and the sassy smirk that Tim had slowly grown to hate over the two months they'd dated.

"Timothy," she called, ignoring Dallas. "I'm going home. Pick me up at 8 tonight."

"I'll do as a damn well please," Tim growled.

Carmen was buttoning her blouse and pretending not to hear. She was openly eyeing Dallas who was staring at her just as obviously. Once clothed she slid past Dallas pressing up against his chest and running a hand over his arm. Dally stood immovable, watching her through slit eyes.

Halfway down the stairs she paused. "Timothy. Thank you for last night." She winked and Tim's stomach heaved. "It was heavenly."

Dallas made a noise that sounded terrifyingly like an animal growl.

Carmen blew him a kiss, laughed and clomped down the stairs in her high heels.

They waited in silence until she'd left.

* * *

A/N: Sorry, short chappie. I'm sorry to say that Tim's drunken behavior is not at all fictional. Beware the rum and coke, my friends. Beware. 


	30. Chapter 30

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 30

A/N: Just realized how little I've included some of the gang in this story...oops.

P.S. God. This story is an absolute nightmare. There are so many things wrong with it...I've gone back and Tim's the WRONG FREAKIN' AGE. Fuck. This story is a mess. Sorry guys. Am too impulsive for these long stories. :P Next time I won't post each chappie as soon as I've written it.

P.P.S. I just got my copy of "Some of Tim's Stories" AND "The Outsiders: The Complete Novel" DVD. So happy!

P.P.P.S. The funnies have disappeared again and been replaced by freakishly long A/Ns.

P.P.P.P.S. Time for a fight, I think.

* * *

They waited in silence until she'd left. 

"Dallas," Tim croaked. He felt dead.

Dally's expression was unreadable. "_Timothy_," he said. He picked at his shirt. "How come she calls you that," he asked.

"Same reason you do," Tim said seriously. "To piss me off."

Dally opened his mouth quickly, but said nothing. He shut his mouth. He stared determinedly at the floor.

Tim bit back a smile. Dally was so easy to read sometimes.

"Should never have slept with her." The second Tim spoke Dallas was looking at him. The second Tim looked back Dallas was staring at the floor.

"I slept with Sylvia," Dally said, trying hard to sound casual.

"Whore." Tim didn't mean to say it out loud.

Dallas looked pleased. "Me or her?"

"Both of you," Tim said wickedly.

Dally grinned. "I missed you." He looked stricken at the sound of his own voice.

Tim raised his eyebrows. "It's only been a day." He paused. "Not even. I spent all of yesterday with you. It's been maybe 20 hours. How could you miss me?"

Dallas was staring at the floor again. "I miss you right now," he said suddenly. A look of fury swept his face. "And you look like fucking shit by the way." He looked Tim square in the eye. "But you always look like shit."

Tim tried not the laugh. "I know," he said calmly, then watched Dally's blood temperature rise.

"You're a fucking asshole," Dally hissed. "You fucking idiot asshole."

Tim lost his battle for self-control. He burst out laughing.

"Shut up!" Dally screamed at him. "I'll beat the fucking crap outta you, you fucking shithead."

"Aw, shut up Dallas," Tim said good-naturedly. He held out a hand to Dally in peace. "You send me to the hospital you'll get a real chance to miss me."

"I didn't miss you. I fucking hate you," Dally said automatically.

Tim bit his lip and withdrew his hand. That one hurt. "No, you don't," he said matter-of-factly.

"I do. I fucking hate your guts."

"You love me."

Dallas swung hard, and Tim wasn't nearly fast enough at that early hour. He felt the thud of the punch and the sting of his teeth going through his tongue and tasted blood.

"You don't know nothin' Shepard," Dallas panted.

His cheek was smarting and his head was spinning from the hangover and hit combined, but Tim had enough balls to respond. "I know more than you do, Winston."

"No, you don't, you _don't!_"

Poor kid. Tim had barely believed it until seeing Dallas' reaction. "Okay," he said, as gently as he could. "Whatever you want, Dallas."

Dallas sat down hard on the stairs and glared at the wall.

The minutes ticked by.

"You're a fucking jerk."

Tim crossed his arms, and shrugged. "Well, you ain't gone so I guess I can get away with it."

"This isn't fair."

"Life ain't fair, Dallas." Tim was starting to get impatient.

Dally caught the tone, and glanced at Tim out of the corner of his eye.

"You want me outta here just say so," he said finally. "But, don't give me any of this love shit or try and distract me with your damn girlfriend plan, cause I just plain don't give a shit. You can fuck around all you want with girls and gossip, but you leave me out of it."

"Or you'll what? Find another queer to screw around with?"

Dallas leaned back against his elbows and gazed at Tim with those clear blue eyes of his. "I don't want to," he said seriously. "But, I ain't made for game-playin' Tim. I'll go along with your girlfriend scam, but when I'm here the games stop, savvy?"

Tim was quiet for a minute. "What the hell are you asking me for, Dallas."

"Quit treatin' me like I'm just some idiot from your gang, or some dumb chick you wanna screw," Dallas said, frustrated. "You always treated me like I'm your buddy...well, it ain't no different now."

Tim had several reasons why it was different, but he wasn't stupid. He kept his mouth shut.

"You try and get a rise outta me saying that I... You bitch about me talking to people, like it's some kinda fucking crime. You force me to get a girlfriend."

Tim sighed hard, not trying to hide his annoyance. If Dallas couldn't see why he did those things... Tim had damn good reasons for everything he did. He just plain knew better.

Dallas wasn't finished. "I dunno what I mean. But, you keep trying to make me do shit that don't make sense to me."

Because you're an idiot, Tim thought. It makes sense to me...

"I mean, I don't care what people think. And you said you didn't either."

Just yesterday Dallas had been the one who worried, trying to get Tim to keep it quiet. Tim cringed to think about how he'd sworn he didn't care. It was just a fucking fantasy. But, at least he knew that.

"I don't wanna waste my time with anyone else. I talked to Soda cause he already knew, and I like telling you what I mean without having you throw it back at me like it's bad."

"If I let you alone about all this, you'd be dead within a week." Tim was through being silent. "I ain't gonna let you talk to whoever you want about this shit, do whatever you want, say whatever you want. For Christ's sake Dallas! Quit being so stupid."

"It ain't your problem what people think of me," Dally protested. "And you said-"

"Yeah, I said I didn't care, and I lied. I ain't itching to see you killed. And you were the one who cared when I was talking shit and wanted to tell."

"Yeah, I still do. But, that was you, okay, I should care. You're in a gang," Dallas said vaguely.

Tim wanted to strangle him. Couldn't Dallas get his meaning out straight for once?

"No one's saying nothing about you. It's just me. So it's okay."

Tim's head pounded. How is that okay, he wanted to yell. He stifled the urge. "Yeah? You leak all that shit about you and nothing about me huh? You fucking jumped me in public in front of that Soda kid...if you're stupid enough to do that who knows what you'll do. I ain't gonna let you drag me down, Winston. You wanna out yourself and have the whole town climbing over each other to cut your balls off be my guest. But, you'll do it without me beside you like a sitting duck."

Tim braced himself for a wave of belligerent swearing, but Dallas only looked at the floor again, and plucked at his shirt enough to put a hole in it.

"Okay," he said quietly. "You win."

Tim could have sworn he'd misheard. "What?"

Dallas frowned at the stairs. "You win. I get it. I'll keep my mouth shut, keep dating Sylvia."

Tim was speechless.

"There's a good chance you'd get dragged in."

"I know," Tim said, confused.

Dally shrugged. "Like I said, I'll keep my mouth shut."

Tim closed his eyes as the headache took over. He'd thought dating Dallas would be simpler than a girl. Boy, was he ever wrong.

* * *

Two-Bit woke up on a couch that wasn't his. "Where in the hell," he muttered groggily. 

"Good morning!"

Two-Bit almost hit the ceiling. "Ahhh," he groaned, covering his ears, as his hangover kicked in.

He could hear Steve's laughter through his fingers. "You ass," he growled.

"Have a good night, Two-Bit?" Soda teased.

Two-Bit moaned pitifully and flipped over. "There ain't no beer left in Tulsa."

"How you ever managed to get back here without killing yourself in that wreck I'll never know," Steve said dryly.

Two-Bit grinned. "You wanna fix it up for me Stevie?"

"No," Steve said, but from the vacant look in his eyes, the wheels were already turning in his brain, mentally mapping out a plan of attack on Two-Bit's junker.

"Good morning, Keith."

The living room fell silent. "Good morning Mrs. Curtis," Two-Bit said guiltily.

She gave him the Look for a good ten seconds, then took pity. "I'm making some lunch for the boys, you're welcome to join us." She hesitated, glancing at Sodapop. "Macaroni and cheese can do wonders for the queasies." She motioned at his head and mimed chugging a bottle.

Two-Bit grinned. Soda picked at his nails and pretended not to notice.

"Man, you're mom sure is something," Steve said in wonder, when she'd left.

Soda grinned, proud. "Yep."

"So how come you're such a weirdo then?"

"I ain't no weirdo. You're the weirdo!"

"You gotta face like a horse butt, weirdo."

"Do not!" Soda yelped.

"Smell like one, too."

"Do not!" Sodapop was not famous for his vicious comebacks.

"Not to mention the stuff that comes outta your face..."

Soda knew he was not nearly as clever with insults as Steve. He attacked.

"Who's the weirdo now, buttface?"

Wrapped firmly in a headlock, Steve reluctantly accepted weirdo status.

"Glory, can't you two keep it down a minute?" Two-BIt grumbled.

"Someone's grumpy," Soda teased, releasing Steve.

"Aww...poor Two-Bit. You're head hurtin', princess?" Steve asked from the ground.

Two-Bit tumbled back against the couch. "Bug off, Steve."

"Jeez, you sure are snarky, ain't ya?" Steve hopped up. "You gonna be too busy feelin' sorry for yourself to come out tonight?"

"Sorry, Stevie, you ain't my type."

"Buck's having a party," Soda piped up before Steve had a chance. "I reckon it'd be a swinger from what I heard."

"Yeah? You going?"

"Naw." Soda shook his head. "Mom and Dad'd skin me if they found out. And Sandy ain't allowed near there either."

"Come on man, don't be such a baby. I'm going ain't I? Do I look like I care what Evie thinks?"

"You oughtta care, if you wanna keep her. She ain't gonna stay for your pretty face, that's for sure."

Steve yelped indignantly, and an instant later the two had returned to the floor.

A lovely smell had wafted into the living room. Two-Bit stopped thinking about the party and stepped over the grappling pair, heading for the promised mac-and-cheese.

* * *

A/N: Ugh, it's so boring. Bear with me, it'll get better. 


	31. Chapter 31

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 31

A/N: So. I had my own teeny bit of Outsiders experience. I'm going to a semi-formal, riding the bus because cars and limos and taxis are friggin' expensive in the city (why pay a hundred bucks when you could pay two-fifty?). I'm wearing my thirty-dollar-nylon party clothes (used - I mean, _vintage_) and sneakers because I've got to hoof it from the bus to the party room. Needless to say, I'm already feeling pretty classy. I walk by these two kids my age, her with her Louis Vuitton hangbag, him in his designer $300 jacket, both with i-pods. I SWEAR they looked me up and down and started whispering. I thought I was being paranoid until I caught the girl actually pointing and laughing and the word "Wearing..." I couldn't believe it. I always thought I was one of those in-betweeners who watched both the greasers have their gang parties and the Socs throw their beer blasts (and was invited to neither). I have to say, after the initial shock and embarrassment, I felt myself to be mighty cool, thanks to good ol' S.E. ...Greaser pride, man. That's my five seconds from the North side. ;)

WARNING: Chapter rated M for sex.

* * *

"Why are you still here?" 

They'd been sitting in silence in the hallway, smoking for the past half an hour. Tim didn't like to waste time on any occasion and he was just about desperate for a shower.

Dallas shrugged and said nothing. He knew it'd piss Tim off - he always liked to deal with things quickly. Well, tough nouggies.

"You wanted to tell me about Sylvia."

Dallas shrugged again, and took a drag off his cigarette.

Tim counted to ten and tried again. "You missed me."

Dallas shrugged yet again, no trace of anger appearing.

Tim ground his cigarette firmly into the wall. "You wanted to check out the competition."

Dallas flicked his eyes lazily towards Tim. "She's a piece, that's for sure."

Tim lost it. "What the fuck do you want?"

Dally leaned back on his elbows and studied Tim. "You know," he said slowly. "I'm really not sure."

Tim stood up. "Well, I got better things to do than sit around here with you."

Dally shrugged (_again_). "Whatever you say, Shepard." He put his cigarette in his mouth and leisurely unbuttoned off his shirt. He unbuckled his belt. Unzipped his pants.

Tim paused.

Dallas closed his eyes and leaned back, exhaling smoke. He let a hand drift down between his legs.

Tim sat back down.

Dally opened his eyes and smiled coldly. "I thought you had something to do, Shepard." He looked away and groaned softly.

Tim's jaw clenched. He knew what Dallas was doing - could see through it as clearly as glass. A part of him was laughing at how idiotically obvious Dally was. Another part was devastated at how much it was affecting him.

Dallas took a final drag off his smoke and put it out against the baseboard like Tim had. He slipped the other hand into his pants. In seconds his hips were rocking, and he was groaning easily.

Tim swore.

Dallas opened his eyes. "I guess I oughtta leave."

"Shut up," Tim growled. "Don't act like some damn put-out broad. You wanna leave - leave. I thought you said you weren't much for game playin'."

Dally smirked. "I ain't playin' Tim." He let out a low moan and increased his speed.

"Shit, Dallas." There was no use pretending he didn't want the blond.

Dally looked at him, considering, breathing heavily.

"What you thinking?" Tim asked huskily. It was obvious from the tent in his pants what Tim was thinking.

"You wanna have sex?" Dally asked finally.

Tim thought he'd imagined it. "What?" he said in disbelief.

"I said, do you want to have sex," Dallas said irritably.

"I..." Tim racked his brain, trying to come up with a previous relationship experience that could help him decipher this one. He had nothing. "I thought you said never."

"I'm horny. I been thinking about it since last night." Dally hesitated. He had to know if it was better. He had to know if it was worth it. And, Tim had said... "We just fought and now we're done. And you think I'm in love, so are we gonna fuck or not."

Tim thought about it. For a second. "Well, when you put it that way."

Dallas let go of himself and they both stood. Tim reached awkwardly for the blond, unsure of how to transition into something romantic.

Dallas was much less hesitant. He practically fell against Tim's mouth, forcing it open, tongue kissing deeply. He backed off so suddenly Tim almost fell over.

"What?" he gasped. "Why'd you stop?"

Dally spat on the carpet and sidestepped Tim, heading for the bathroom. "You were sick last night, weren't you."

"Um."

"Yeah."

He'd never seen Dallas puke before.

* * *

Soda couldn't believe his luck. He hadn't pushed, he hadn't bitched, he'd just waited patiently - and now his time had come. He pulled his jeans off and laid back against Sandy's bed. She gave him a shaky smile and slid in next to him. 

"You can back out if you wanna," Soda whispered. He really hoped she didn't.

Sandy shook her head. "I'm ready," she said firmly. She owed him this at least.

Soda had waited long enough. He didn't waste any time.

* * *

Tim let the hot water course over his body, and told himself he would only be another thirty seconds. He'd been standing under the stream for ten minutes - five minutes longer than he usually needed. Dally had probably changed the sheets and was waiting for him...what the hell was wrong with him that he wasn't desperate to get into that bed? 

Tim's hand hovered over the tap - another thirty seconds, he decided.

Dally was willing - he'd figured it would be at least another month of the two of them fooling around before he managed to convince Dallas that sex could be fun. He'd been so wrong... Was that all that was bothering him? Just that Dally had the ability to surprise him? But, he'd known that already.

Ten more seconds, Tim told himself firmly. Ten, nine...

God, he wanted it. It didn't matter that he'd been laid twice the night before, or that an hour ago he'd thought it'd be a couple of days before he managed to get it up again. This was different. It could be so good, he knew it. So damn good.

Three, two...

It could be pretty bad, too.

Tim flipped off the water forcefully.

* * *

Angela tapped her foot nervously on the edge of the stairs. This was sick, she thought. It was her brother. She really didn't want to hear him having sex with anyone, much less Dallas. 

She sat down on the stairs. She'd been sitting at the kitchen table, and through the thin walls had heard it as clearly as if he'd shouted it: "You wanna have sex?"

Angela was very, very glad her parents weren't home.

Tim was brilliant, she knew that. It didn't matter if he'd flunked out of school - if he'd wanted to, he could have been the fucking valedictorian. It amazed her that even someone like him could turn stupid as soon as the idea of sex popped into his brain.

Yesterday, he'd had sex with Sandy - she knew he would as soon as he'd asked Sandy if she had an extra cigarette, his own pack clearly visible in his shirt pocket. Then he'd brought Carmen back home, even though the last time he'd done that their mother had caught them in the act, and yelled at Tim so much their step-father had actually hit him. He'd shrugged off the bruises, but Angela knew he'd been embarrassed for days after - Tim was a very private person at home. She doubted their mother had even known he was dating yet.

And now... Angela heard the creak of the bed and knew it wasn't her brother. She shuddered and blocked off the thought of Dallas naked. He hadn't been all that repulsive before but she just couldn't stand thinking about him anymore. She had to get out of there. Angela hopped up from the stairs and slipped quickly through the house, pausing in the kitchen to grab a half empty bottle of scotch. She took a quick gulp, grimacing as it burned her throat.

If it made Tim feel better...

* * *

"Fuck," Dally gasped. They'd made it to the bed, and Tim was going all out in seducing him. 

"You like that? Mmm..."

Dallas groaned. Any lingering doubts he had about sex had vanished like beer around Two-BIt. He tugged Tim's hair, reminding him of why they were in bed in the first place.

Tim reached for a condom and tore it open, but he was more nervous than he thought he was. He dropped the condom. "Fuck."

Dallas watched it roll away from the bed. "Uh, what was that for anyway?"

"Oh, right." Tim wiped his palms on the sheet. "Musta been habit."

Dallas snorted. "Make her take the pill."

"She is. I ain't takin' no chances. No girl is gonna get me that way." Tim swallowed and wiped his hands again, wincing at the pain in his bad hand. Talking about pregnancy was making him more nervous.

"As much as that turns me on, can we get back to business?" Dally drawled.

"Okay. Right. You got the Vaseline?" Tim took the jar from Dallas and unscrewed it with a shaky hand. "You sure?" he asked, for the tenth time in the past five minutes.

"Christ, Timothy. You ask me that one more time, and I'll be outta here faster than you come."

"You call me 'Timothy' again and I'll kick your ass."

The bigger guy never needs a snappy comeback.

Tim took a breath. He half wished for a cigarette, but it wasn't the time. "You nervous?"

"No."

Tim handed the Vaseline back to Dallas.

"You used half the jar? That's more than Steve'd need to do an oil change. I'm gonna be shitting that crap for a month. How you figuring on holding on to your dick long enough to get in me, huh? You'll slip right outta your own hand. I know you're hung but you really think you need that much? Fuck, man, you use that much every time you gotta be a millionaire to get laid more'n once a month."

Tim waited until Dallas ran out of breath. "Aha, so, you nervous?"

"Maybe."

Tim reached for him.

"Keep your hands offa my ass, Shepard. Just fucking do what you gotta do and get this over with."

Tim laughed. "I shoulda got you drunk first, Dallas. You sure you wanna-"

"Dammit Tim!"

Tim leaned forward, but Dallas pulled away. "Just do it, willya? Fuck the kissing."

"Okay, okay." Tim readied himself, but he was losing it. "Come on, kiss me. Maybe that'll get it up."

Dally glared at him. "Jeez you sure are romantic."

"You're the one who-"

"You wanna fight or you wanna fuck?"

Tim closed his eyes and tried to force down the urge to break Dally's nose. He lined himself up, trying to think sexy thoughts, and pressed into the blond.

It felt to Dally like someone was splitting him open. "Fuck!"

"You okay?"

"Keep going," Dally said through clenched teeth.

Tim pushed an inch further.

"FUCK!"

"You want me to stop?"

"No...no. Just hold on a minute." Dallas breathed deeply, trying to get used to the searing pain that was running up his spine. "Shit, this hurts."

"I oughtta stop, then," Tim gasped. Dallas wasn't exactly loose and being scared wasn't helping any. He could feel the blond's heartbeat through his dick. "Quit clenching."

Dally took another breath and forced himself to relax. The pain lessened marginally. "Okay, I'm fine. Keep going."

"You sure. Cause I keep going, I ain't gonna wanna stop."

"Just fucking do it, Tim. I gotta get through this once."

"Whatever you say." Tim pushed forward again, waited a second and then pushed again.

Dallas let out a shout. "Oh, God, Tim, stop...fuck..."

"Shhh...you gotta keep quiet, man," Tim groaned. It felt damn good to him.

"No, shit, I can't...I can't...ahhh."

"Dammit Dallas, shut it." Tim clamped his good hand across Dally's mouth. "Oh, fuck yeah."

Dally shook his head violently.

"Hang on..." Tim squirmed a bit, trying to ease out gently and trying to control the violent urge to fuck Dallas as hard as he could.

"Nnngh!" Dally gut punched him. Hard. Tim gasped for breath, rolling off quickly, forgetting about easing out. He wasn't prepared for the second punch, or the third.

"Shit, Dallas!" Tim groaned in pain, accidentally defending himself with his bad hand.

"You asshole!" Dally spat. "You shithead. You fucking jerk!" He tumbled out of the bed and staggered to the door.

"Wait, dammit, I was trying to get out!" Tim scrambled out of bed after Dallas.

"Stay where you are!" Dally shouted.

Tim froze and held up his hands. "Fine, fine. Sorry." He tossed Dallas his boxers, and, on second thought, a box of tissues. He couldn't stand to see the blood. "Come on, man, calm down. I wasn't trying to hurt you, I swear."

Dally swore. He pulled on the boxers and flung the tissue box back at Tim. "Gimme the cigarettes."

Tim tossed him his Kools and a matchbook. "I didn't meant it," he said carefully.

Dallas lit a cigarette and slid down the door, wincing as he sat. He smoke the first cigarette quickly, ground it out in the heel of Tim's boot and started another. "I know that," he said finally.

Tim leaned back against the bed and closed his eyes, cupping his throbbing hand to his chest. He'd had enough of Dally's temper tantrums. He was so sick of sitting through the rages when all he was trying to do was what he figured Dallas wanted...

He heard a drawer open and the rip of surgical tape and a second later felt Dally's warm hands on his. He opened his eyes.

Dally's eyes were on Tim's hand as he gingerly inspected the swelling. "Looks broken," he mumbled around his cigarette. He glanced at Tim quickly. "What'd you do, punch a brick wall?"

Tim watched him rip a strip of tape off and wind it carefully around his hand. "Yeah."

Dally grunted. "Dumb thing a do, Tim. Your right hand, too."

Tim winced. "Not so tight," he said shortly.

Dally's eyes crinkled and the corners of his mouth twitched. "Yeah, yeah, you big baby." He finished taping Tim's hand. "There. I know you think tape is for sissies but you're too stupid to quit using that hand when it's free."

"I wouldn't have had to if you hadn't sucker punched me."

Dally frowned. "It wasn't a sucker punch. You had a clear view and plenty of time to react."

"You punch anyone while they're having sex it's a sucker punch."

Dallas looked down. "Yeah."

Tim knew it was the closest to "sorry" he'd get. "Well. I wasn't aiming to hurt you either."

Dally shrugged. "S'okay." He sat down slowly on the bed, barely wincing. "Queer sex is just crap."

Tim look at him quickly, alarmed. "No, it ain't, I swear." He rubbed his hand nervously. "Don't know what went wrong." He swallowed down the rest of the words that threatened to tumble out.

Dally half-smiled. "Yeah." He took a long drag off his smoke and watched Tim sweat. "Well," he said slowly, "next time-"

"Next time?"

"Next time," Dally said firmly, "it had better be good."

Dallas smoked in silence for a minute; Tim rubbed his aching hand.

"You leave that hand alone, you're just making it worse, idiot," Dally said irritably.

Tim couldn't figure out why it made him so happy that Dallas had noticed.


	32. Chapter 32

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 32

A/N: Hey, I'm updating again. Just felt like it.

This is one of those chapters where I ramble. It's supposed to be an in-depth look at their relationship, but they just won't stop fighting, damn it. Constructive criticisms on this chappie (actually, on any of my stuff) will be wholeheartedly appreciated.

P.S. I have just been enlightened to the finer points of POV, and have realized that I've seriously messed with it through this story. Yet another thing, heh, sorry! I wrote this chapter before I figured it out though, and I'm not even sure what POV I was trying for exactly to begin with...but if anyone notices something fishy let me know!

* * *

Dally laughed. "You shoulda seen your face when I jumped up. Held your hands up and everything, like I was the fucking cops." He smirked at Tim from where he was sitting at the end of the bed, knees up, by the window. 

Tim took a sip of beer and leaned back across the end of his bed. "Shoot, I was more scared of you running outta the house naked and screaming than I ever been of the fuzz."

Dally scowled. "I wasn't screaming."

Tim inclined his head in consent. "You sure as hell weren't using your indoor voice, though," he muttered.

Dally drained the last of his beer and set the empty bottle on Tim's night-stand. "We oughtta get going if we're going to make the party."

"I never said I was going to no party, Dallas."

"Carmen said-"

"Oh yeah, I always take orders from Carmen." Tim took a long drink off of his beer. "She's a bitch."

Dally laughed. "No kidding. You see the way she looked at me?"

Tim nodded. "Like she wanted to scratch your eyes out. Damn broads, so fucking intuitive."

"Boy, you sure got a potty mouth on you, don't ya?"

"Shut up, you're worse!" Tim shoved Dally's leg. Dallas leaned over and shoved him back.

"You wanna go?" Tim slammed his beer down beside Dally's empty bottle and grabbed the blond.

They grappled for a few seconds before Dallas shifted his weight abruptly and they tumbled onto the floor.

"Hah!" Dally cried triumphantly, straddling Tim. "I win! Holler-"

With a groan of effort, Tim flipped him over. Dally struggled, but his will went out of the fight when Tim started to grind against him.

"That ain't fair!" he protested as Tim laughed.

"Hmm...this looks familiar, don't it?" Tim murmured, leaning in close.

Dally pressed his mouth against Tim's quickly. "Yeah."

"Hey! That ain't how it goes. You're supposed to keep fighting."

"An' you're supposed to tell me I'm just a boy."

"You are just a boy."

"Fuck you! I'm a man-"

Tim leaned down and covered Dally's mouth with his. This wasn't any two second kiss. He felt Dallas pull back slightly and deepened the kiss, forcing Dally's mouth open.

"Uhhh..."

You ain't going nowhere, this time, Tim thought. He pressed down harder, his kissing getting sloppier, his hips grinding into Dally's.

When he finally came up for air, it was a good five minutes later.

"Whoa," Dally groaned. He thrust his hips up to meet Tim's. "We could have avoided a lot of trouble if you'd just done that to begin with."

Tim grinned. "I didn't see you trying to kiss me."

Dally grimaced. "I never thought about you like that. You started it all."

"That is such bullshit. You been hard for me for years and you know it, Winston."

"I didn't know it," he said honestly. "Until a couple weeks ago, I got as hard up for you as I did for a fucking couch cushion."

"So pretty hard."

"Yeah."

Tim pushed himself off Dally's chest and straddled him. He could feel Dally squirming underneath him. "You were so damn against this in the beginning."

"You can be pretty persuasive when you wanna be."

Tim chuckled. "Yeah, well, you were easy to persuade."

Dally propped himself up on his elbows. "Yeah? And how would you know?"

Tim shrugged. "You think you're my only victim?"

Dally shook his head. "You remember when you took me to that place? The-the-the whatever bar. You said you gave some guy a blow job. You do that a lot?"

"You mean, since I started with you?"

"You better not have."

Tim laughed. "Since when have I had time to go running off with someone else? You're fucking clingy, Dallas."

Dally shrugged off the insult. "What about before?"

"Before what."

"Before we got started with this shit. You been with a lot?"

"A few, yeah."

"Sex?"

Tim paused. "The talk" would have been long coming if he'd been dating a girl, but he didn't figure that Dallas would care about this stuff. "Dally, you're the only person I ever dated who didn't want to have sex with me right off."

"Well, aren't we modest."

"That's just the way it is." Tim climbed off of Dally. "You get started doing this shit, you don't usually stay together long. A couple a quick fucks - maybe spend a week meeting up. That's more than long enough for most people. Most of the time it's a one-night thing in some dingy motel. You get involved and there's someone else who knows you and who you hang with, and there's too much trouble that could happen after that. It's dangerous. You don't mess with friends, you don't mess with people that know you outside of places like that bar. It's a liability you can't afford to have if you wanna keep living. I seen people who get attached to each other...they break up, and one person spills cause they're mad, or they get careless and someone sees them or they think it won't matter if anyone knows. Next thing you know, one of them's dead." Tim sat on the bed and glared at Dally.

"Okay, okay. I didn't need a fucking lecture." Dally pushed himself off the floor, and to Tim's surprise, straddled him quickly. "Why'd you kiss me then, if you're so against getting involved."

"I..." With Dally inches from his face, looking right into his eyes it was damn hard to think. "I can't remember."

Dally raised an eyebrow. "You were drunk, I guess. And horny. That all?"

Tim shoved him off his lap. "What are you hinting at, Winston."

Dally shrugged. "I always liked hanging out with you, and sometimes...I dunno, I thought some weird stuff sometimes. I just thought it was cause I thought you were tuff or something. Like a role model - don't get cocky, that thought is long gone. Long gone. Years gone. Oh, fuck off."

Tim just couldn't stop laughing.

Dally waved him off irately; he wanted to get something out in the open. "I wasn't kidding, I never really thought about you like this until you started things."

Tim flopped back against the bed. "So, you were in denial. Why does that not surprise me."

"So, you thought about me then?"

Tim looked at Dallas. He didn't look like he was searching for a compliment, he just looked damn curious. "Yeah, sure." Tim smirked to himself. He'd had plenty of sexy thoughts usually involving a very desperate Dallas and a very obliging and helpful version of himself. Maybe Dally got into a car wreck, broke both legs, both arms...maybe he needed Tim to 'help him out'...

"Hello? You still here?"

Tim shook himself. "Uh, yeah. Yeah I thought about you. Not that much, though." He studied Dally. "You're kinda cute, you know?"

Dally snorted. "Liar."

Tim chuckled. "Well, you are, but I didn't know that till just recently. No...I always thought you were pretty good looking. You got a real attractive quality - like a crazy colt that needs breaking in or something. But, you were always such a pain in my ass..."

Dally laughed. "Good."

"I don't know why I started things up with you. I guess, at the time I really thought you were something. I didn't usually think much of you back then though...bet it had something to do with that booze."

"You think I'm something now, don't you?"

Tim rolled his eyes. "Nah, I've been trying to get rid of you for weeks. You're like that damn cat."

Dally pushed him gently. He was smiling, but uncertainly. Christ, Tim thought. He shouldn't have joked.

"Yeah, I guess I think you're something," he said quickly.

Dally looked out the window. "When did you...know?" he asked quietly.

That you were the one? Tim thought. His heart stopped. What the hell did Dallas think he was doing? He stared at Dally. "I still don't, you crazy fucker."

Dally gave him a strange look. "You don't know you like guys? Okay, who's in denial now?"

"OH!" Tim sighed in relief. "Oh, I thought...never mind. Haha. Right."

Dally looked taken aback. "Uh..."

"I've known forever," Tim said hastily. Then wished he hadn't. What business was it of Dally's? "Why you want to know?"

Dally frowned. "I dunno. Feels like I got into this a bit late, that's all. I should have known something was up before."

Tim sighed. "You really think you didn't know?"

"I really didn't!"

"Come on. You never looked at a guy and thought he was good looking and something felt strange?"

"No."

"You never did something with a girl your buddies kept saying was great and thought it was no big deal?"

"No."

"You never had some guy's face pop up when you were jerking off?"

"No."

"You never got a hard on wrestling with a buddy?"

"No..."

"Big fat liar."

"I am not fat!"

Tim laughed.

Dally sighed. "Okay, but that was with you again. And I didn't think it was about sex, it was just cause of the effort."

"The effort."

"Yeah, the physical pressure you put on me."

"The pressure."

"Yeah. Or you kept tickling me and I couldn't control it. It wasn't my fault. I had no control."

"You had no control."

"Why do you keep repeating what I'm saying?" Dally shouted.

"Because I want you to hear how crazy you sound." Tim smirked watching Dally lose his cool. "Since when does a fourteen-year-old know how to control his dick?"

"It wasn't-"

"The pressure of my body against yours. The effort of pushing back against me."

"It's not-"

"You are such a liar, Dallas," Tim continued merrily. "You've been lying to yourself for God knows how long."

"Why do you try and turn everything into a fight?"

Tim stopped short.

"Every time I try and talk to you and I manage to get a couple of things out about who you are, you freak out and attack me." Dally folded his arms. He was on the offensive now. "You keep making out like everything in your past is some damn dark secret and you bitch at me cause you can't deal with the fact that you actually want to tell me."

Tim swallowed. It suddenly felt very warm. "Why the hell are you prying anyway? You're like a damn woman."

"Look, I just asked you a question cause this is like a whole nother world here, and so far, you've been my guide. Only, you're a shitty guide cause you've got me blindfolded and gagged and handcuffed and you don't tell me anything."

Tim stopped listening. Dallas blindfolded, gagged and handcuffed...

"Stop thinking about sex."

Tim shook himself. "Fine," he snapped. "You want a guide? You got three free questions. After that, I ain't promising anything. And believe me, you are going to pay for those questions."

He wondered where he was going to find handcuffs.

* * *

A/N: Bondage jokes were inspired by other, better bondage jokes. ;) You know who you are. 


	33. Chapter 33

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 33

A/N: I'm so mad. I wrote out the whole party section, and my stupid computer deleted it - I have no idea why. I had to write it all again. So mad.

P.S. There are a lot of really great fics out there that I'm reading now that depict the Shepard gang fantastically - all the members are well-thought out and the group dynamic is flawless. Sadly, this is not one of them. I can't seem to contradict the fics I'm already reading. Such is the danger of reading good fanfiction...sigh. Sorry all. :(

P.P.S. I figure, I took off for two years right before they actual started to enjoy themselves, lol. I've been on the other end of that and yeah, it's not so fun. So, I'll try to update fast now, as apology. :)

* * *

The first question was easy. 

"When did you know you liked guys?"

Tim was holding his cigarette so tightly Dally thought he was going to snap it. He couldn't help but feel a small measure of happiness at seeing Tim so uncomfortable for once, instead of him. How you like that, huh? He thought meanly.

"I already answered that," Tim snapped. "It was a long time ago."

Dally poked him. "And? How did you find out?"

Tim blew smoke at him. "That counts as your second question," he warned.

Dally smiled. "Sure," he said graciously. He knew he had the mother of all bargaining chips - he was sitting on it.

Tim took a long drag off his cigarette before answering. "When I was twelve, I'd just figured out what my dick was for and I was playing around with myself outside and some creep came along and saw me and I ran away from him but it turned me on enough later on."

He took another drag. "And when I was nine a cousin of mine from somewhere came to visit for a night and we ended up playing dungeon even though we knew we were too old for it and I had maybe too much fun."

He ground out his cigarette and took a deep breath, not meeting Dally's eyes. "When I was fourteen I met this guy, must have been eighteen and fuckin' hot, and he dragged me off for three months to this broken garage of his and blew me and fucked me and let me fuck him, and at the end of it he left me in that bar we went to and skipped town and I ain't seen him since."

He picked up his beer bottle, three quarters full and downed the contents in a few quick swallows. "And when I was eight my momma remarried." He was quiet for a minute, toying with his bottle. "And he's a fucking jackass and I couldn't for the life of me figure out why he would marry my mom and pretend to buddy around with me if he really hated our guts. And I couldn't figure out why my mom would wanna marry him, neither. Or why they stuck together. Or why anybody stuck together, got married, if it was all for shit." He smiled ironically. "I just thought it'd be more fun to hang around with your buddies rather than with a broad you barely liked and her kids who you couldn't fucking stand."

He leaned against the wall. "But, girls ain't all that bad either," he said thoughtfully. "Just not as good as guys."

He glanced at Dallas and reddened. "That about enough information for you?" he said roughly. "You wanna pick apart more of my life?"

Dally was quiet. He knew Tim was about a nanosecond away from exploding. He also knew he could put him over the edge even faster if he did what he wanted and asked another question.

"I got a third question don't I?"

Tim slammed his beer bottle down on the night-stand. "Well? What is it? What more do you fucking want from me Dallas?"

Dally changed his mind quickly. He wasn't in the mood for another fight. "You about ready to go to that party now?"

Tim paused. "That's your question?"

"No, but you'll jump all over me if I ask you anything else, right now," Dally said bluntly. "I got more 'n one more question to ask, too, but later-"

"No, fuck later. Ask me now and get it over with, dammit. You ain't got a fucking chance in hell of getting anything out of me later, Winston."

Dally was quiet. He wished he was Tim and knew how to calm Tim down instead of being Dallas and only knowing how to explode Tim's head.

"You gonna ask or just sit there looking dumb?"

"You know, I don't know," Dally said thoughtlessly before realizing how stupid that sounded. Tim scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Okay," he said quickly, then hesitated. "The guys you been with - were they normal guys? Were they good looking?"

"What."

"Am-am I..."

"What? For fuck's sake..."

Undo it, undo it, Dally thought frantically. But he didn't know how. He stared at his hands instead.

"Yes, Dallas, you are the prettiest boy in all the land," Tim said sarcastically. "Christ. Is that what you wanted me to say?"

"_No_."

"Well, what then? You want me to tell you the truth? I been with a helluva lot more attractive guys than you, and more willing, and less annoying...less a giant pain in my ass." Tim stared at Dallas, daring him to reply. Dally knew he was just itching to get into a fight. He took a deep breath and forced down his own anger.

"I just wanted to know why you-"

"I already told you why I picked you. Why I got myself into this fucking mess."

Dally swallowed and tried again. "But, am I-"

"I ain't gonna answer anything else if you don't listen. Fuck."

Dally breathed for a minute, trying to calm himself down. "Okay. I just-"

"You just decided to fuck around and ask stupid questions and piss me off by being an idiot, as usual," Tim said viciously. He stood up quickly. "I've had about all of you that I can take right now, Dallas. Don't come back here tonight."

Dally watched him slam across the room. He hadn't forgotten what it was like to have Tim furious with him.

"I just wanted to know why you're still with me," he yelled at Tim's back.

Tim went still. He looked at Dallas. "You know," he said evenly, in perfect, cruel mockery, "I don't know."

* * *

The party was swinging when he got there. Sylvia was wearing a skirt that ended a full six inches above her knees and her bare legs could take a man's breath away. She was already half-drunk and giggly and within five seconds of his appearing on the scene, she'd draped herself across his lap and was whispering dirty suggestions in his ear. 

Dallas sat in a corner with a beer, half-listening to her, half-listening to some bullshit story Jack Evans was telling, squinting at a couple of cowboys he barely knew, winking at their dames and not thinking about Tim Shepard.

He found it a nice change of pace.

It'd been awhile since he'd just relaxed with a beer and been one of the guys, and known that nobody in his present company was thinking about the fact that he was fooling around with a man.

Jack finished his story with a raunchy flourish, to the hoots of the cowboys and protesting giggles of their blondes. Sylvia chuckled in his ear and whispered:

"That story gave me a couple of good ideas."

Then she gave Jack a cool look and called him filthy.

Dallas took a sip from his bottle to try and hide his smile. She was turning out to be more fun than he'd thought.

Jack winked at her, then glanced at Dallas. "She all yours, buddy?"

"Damn straight." Dally growled, tightening his grip. "You keep your greasy hands and your bull-shitting mouth away from my girl, Evans."

Then he sat back and soaked in the glory of Sylvia's laugh of agreement. He watched with triumph as Jack held up his hands and backed away, grinned at the cowboys' approving whistles and smirked at their girls' admiring stares. And didn't think about Tim Shepard.

* * *

"Shepard!" 

Tim caught the hint of shock in the boy's voice, though he'd tried to keep it cool. Donny's eyes were wide and he wasn't the only one staring. It had been too long. Tim gave them all a friendly smile.

"Get out of my chair."

There was a scramble to clear a path but Donny didn't move. He stared up at Tim boldly, but Tim noticed he had the edge of the table in a death grip.

"Is this still your chair?" he said innocently. "You been gone so long I must have forgotten."

Tim punched him in the mouth without warning. It felt terrific. He knew he'd pay for it later - he couldn't just show up after so long with nothing to show for it, hitting whoever he felt like. But, he didn't care. Much.

"What the fuck!"

"Get out of my chair, Pinter."

Donny cursed and spat blood but he staggered out of Tim's way.

Tim dropped into the chair and settled himself like a cat. _My_ chair, he thought belligerently.

"Where you been, Shep?"

"Around," he said shortly. "Where's McFarland got himself to."

"He's in jail," Curly said quietly, poking his head out from nowhere. Tim almost jumped and could have killed himself for it. He'd never felt more unsettled around members of his own gang.

"What for?" he asked.

"You would know if you were around," Donny said spitefully. Tim looked at him, but Donny glared right back. He was right. Tim forced himself to hold the boy's gaze until he looked away. "He got picked up trying to lift the hubs on an undercover." Donny gave him a resentful look. "He wasn't never too bright."

"Don't reckon they went easy on him neither, Tim," Curly said, still in that quiet tone.

Tim said nothing, his mind racing. Eddie McFarland had been his right hand for barely two months and was already fucking up, and he wasn't even around to see it. McFarland had been a replacement for Jimmy Zipinsky who'd been a replacement for Bobby Kettle who had been shit in the first place but who had been hooked up with the right people when Tim had needed to be. He was hoping Curly would step it up one of these days so he'd be able to stop fucking around with the temporaries and start taking advantage of a blood bond. As far as he knew it was too soon for that - but, Tim hadn't been paying enough attention in the past two weeks to even know what his own brother was up to.

"Okay," he said slowly. "I got some shit to wrap up-"

"With who?"

Don't fucking question me, Tim thought, gritting his teeth. Not now. Not when he didn't have sure back-up on the inside. Donny was trouble. He needed to take the bastard out.

"Not your concern," he said shortly. "Personal beef." He paused. "I'm gonna need someone to fill in for McFarland."

He studied Donny, pretended to consider him. Dallas had been bugging him anyway - getting clingy, asking questions, staying the night, every night, hanging out every damn day...he needed some space and his gang was going to demand the time.

"Pinter," he said slowly, as if he'd just made up his mind. "I been checking out a deal in Oklahoma City - may need some manpower. Check with Brumley, make sure their deal is still cool with our outfit."

Dally knew some kids in Oklahoma city - he'd been all over in and out of foster homes before high-tailing back to the old man where at least he had some space. It was the least Dallas could do to hook him up with some action. Tim didn't much care what, so long as it gave him an alibi.

Donny straightened. "You got it, boss."

Boss, Tim sneered. Like Donny wasn't a day away from planning to slit his throat.

He nodded, letting his eyes reflect his satisfaction. "Good. I'm countin' on you to use your brains more than Eddie." He caught a flash of dark hair and a scowl, and watched Carmen stomp past the doorway to the bar. He ignored her, and kept his eyes on Donny. "Round up the boys, tell 'em two days from now I'll be here with the details." He stood and headed for the bar, noting out of the corner of his eye that Donny was arrogant enough to smirk at him. You wait, you fucker, he thought.

He kept his enemies close.

* * *

Sylvia had wanted to leave early, which he hadn't expected, but he walked her home anyway. 

"I got class tomorrow," she had said. Dally had thought it was a joke.

He yawned and fished around for his cigarettes. The night was still young, but with Sylvia safe at home he had no desire to go back to Buck's party. He thought about heading to the Curtises' but as early as it was for him, it was late for them, on a school night especially. He didn't want to lower Mrs. Curtis' opinion of him any further than he'd already had.

His shirt pocket yielded nothing; he hadn't been dumb enough to leave the cigarettes in his jeans either. His jacket pocket had his lighter, a metal one he'd swiped from Two-Bit who had swiped it from a dime store somewhere, and his Kools. And he'd left that at Tim's.

Fuck, he thought.

* * *

Carmen had not been pleased. 

"I said pick me up!" she had shouted.

He'd replied that frankly, _my dear_, he didn't give a rat's ass.

Tim walked home wet, alone, and with the imprint of Carmen's hand across his cheek.

He shook off the anger as best as he could. Spending so much time with Dallas had shortened his fuse considerably - one of the many unpleasant side-effects of his relationship with the blond. One tiny mistake, he thought, one half-second of bad judgement and he'd managed to fuck up his entire life. Maybe even shorten it.

He kicked at a stone and sent it flying into the fender of a passing car. He wished he was strong enough to break it off with Dally for good.

Tim sighed, disgusted with himself. He'd just talk to Dallas, explain that they had to cool it for awhile, tune out his tantrum and pop a couple of aspirin, then ask him about his contacts in the city. Dally would be sulky but Tim could deal with that. He was sure there were a few things he could do to sweeten the blond's temper.

The door creaked when he let himself in, but the absence of any other sounds meant he was alone. He wondered where his mother was, where his step-father was, where Angela was, why the door was unlocked...

Tim leaned against the refrigerator door and felt it stop working.

He reached for the switch and could have laughed at himself for thinking it would produce any light.

He shrugged it off and rooted around for the bottle of scotch he remembered seeing there the night before. There was nothing but a half empty three-litre of wine that stank like vinegar.

Tim felt suddenly very depressed. He drank the wine.


	34. Chapter 34

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 34

A/N: Ah, I can't stop. I can't do it, I tell you! I tried so hard but it just feels so good.

I'm talking about POV switches here, people.

It's just so lovely sometimes - you're ensconced in one person's consciousness and then suddenly you get an epiphany from someone else. Or, maybe it's terrible and wrenches you right out of the character. Hmm...again, let me know guys, if you've got time. Specifically the last section of this chappie.

P.S. Sorry, short chapter.

P.P.S. I just hooked up my mac to internet!!! So happy. But, unfortunately, it may take awhile to figure out how to format stuff properly on here. Sorry if it's weird, or hard to read.

The night was fantastically clear - he could even see a few stars from Tim's window. Dallas leaned against the pillows and puffed on his cigarette.

He didn't feel like leaving. His options were mighty slim. Go back to Buck's and get a room, or go home, or sleep in the lot...he'd been spoiled by too many nights in Tim's creaky, soft, bed.

Dally breathed in the scent of cigarette smoke and Tim's soap. He'd been so mad...

He shrugged it off. Tim was private. He hated to talk. He'd get over it.

He heard a thud from somewhere and a few seconds later heard a terrific amount of noise coming up towards him from the stairs. Dally smiled. Tim was home.

He heard a mumbled "Oof," and the sound of clattering from the stairs moved away again. It wasn't like Tim to fall. Dally smirked. He must be drunk. Again. Dally bit his lip. It wasn't like Tim to drink so much either.

There was muffled swearing, followed by a thud that shook the walls and then a good deal more swearing, louder this time. "Don't use your bad hand, idiot," Dally murmured to himself.

Tim swore all the way back up the stairs. He sure sounds mad, Dally thought lazily. He'd been in a bad mood since... With a start he remembered Tim's parting words to him. "Don't come back here tonight..."

He sat up in Tim's bed as Tim's footsteps approached his door. There was no way out. "Shit..."

Tim paused at the bathroom door and took a swallow of mouthwash. He regretted drinking the wine - it was turning his stomach something fierce and his breath stank so much it was bothering even him. But, at least he was pleasantly tipsy. It had dulled the pain in his hand pretty well.

He pushed open the door to his bedroom and sighed with relief. It felt good to be home.

He sank down on his bed, wincing slightly at the wheezing it produced. He and Dally hadn't exactly been taking it easy on the bedsprings. He watched the room spin for a minute - he didn't mind being so out of it. He really, really didn't want to think about anything right now, and the alcohol was a nice distraction.

He turned on his side, the bed squeaking again. Dallas had left his jacket. He'd probably be back for it. Tim wanted space, but he needed to talk to Dallas again. He had to make sure Dally wasn't going to cause any trouble...

Tim flipped over (squeak, squeak, wheeze) and tried not to think about it. His bed felt unusually hard and uncomfortable...as annoying as Dallas was with his fidgeting and constant sex dreams, Tim had been getting used to the extra warmth at his side. He hoped he would be able to sleep.

He squirmed impatiently on the bed and it gave another series of loud wheezes.

"What the fuck.."

He bounced experimentally. The bed wheezed again, and then suddenly sneezed.

Tim closed his eyes. "Dallas get the _fuck_ out from under my bed."

"Can't," came the muffled reply. "You're squishing me."

Tim stood and Dallas crawled out, a fine layer of dust coating him from toe to tow-head. He sneezed again and stood up quickly. "Um, hi. What's up?"

Tim was flooded with a strange sense of relief. He laughed so hard he almost cracked a rib.

Dally grinned sheepishly. "Does this mean I get to sleep _on_ the bed?"

That night he had nightmares that woke him shaking and sweating and scared. He couldn't sleep for more than a couple of hours before bolting straight awake in Tim's bed. He was glad Tim was there - the sight of him brought him quickly back to reality and falling asleep beside his warm, familiar body was a lot easier than when he was alone. But, he didn't dream much by himself anyway these days. He pushed away the thought that it was what Tim did to him that brought the dreams back in the first place. His ass hurt.

He jerked awake again at five am, this time closed to tears with exhaustion and panic. "Damn, damn, _damn_!" His nerves were taut - blood was pounding in his head, and he could swear he heard someone saying his name...

Tim had slept soundly and soundlessly through the night - a symptom of the wine, Dallas assumed. But, this time when Dally looked over at him, Tim was staring right back.

Dally almost jumped out of his skin. He had to bite his lip to keep from yelling. "You're awake?"

Tim shrugged. In the dim street light, his black eyes glittered like beetles. "What you thrashing around for?" He was still slurring.

Dally abandoned his pride in the face of Tim's inebriety. He curled against Tim's side and wrapped his arms around his neck, burrowing his face in Tim's shoulder. "No reason."

Tim shifted, and pushed Dally off slightly. Dallas let him. Neither of them was used to much affection.

"You dreaming?"

Even through the drunkenness, Dallas caught the note of concern. He looked up at Tim's face, inches from his own. "Yeah. No big deal." This close he could see the threads of ocean blue running through Tim's irises. He caught himself staring and turned away, curling towards the window.

Tim rubbed his back. "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault. I wanted to try." He felt stupid. "I shoulda known better."

Tim pulled him close. "You said..."

"Yeah I know. We'll try again, but not now." Dally wanted to hit him. He didn't care how long Tim had waited. For a minute he sympathized fiercely with the girls he had dated in the past. It made him feel worse. Then it made him feel sick.

"I know. I didn't mean that." Tim rubbed a hand roughly across Dally's head. "I ain't always an asshole Dally." He chuckled. "Most of the time, yeah, but not right now. I meant, you said 'never' before. You were pretty sure about that, too. Why'd you change your mind?"

"Didn't want you to run off, I guess." Maybe it was the hour, or the dreams, or the fact that Tim was still a little drunk, but Dally just didn't feel like hiding.

Tim sucked in a breath quickly. "What?"

"When we were talking about getting girlfriends, and I said...I don't remember, something dumb, I guess, about me and you, and you said if I ever said it again you'd take off. I figure, if I was a guy...I mean, I AM a guy. Fuck, you know what I mean. I'm a guy, and if I was in your position, I'd a put up with a lot less before I'd leave."

Tim wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Idiot kid. Couldn't see past his own crazy fears to what the truth was. Couldn't see how little Tim's threat had to do with him.

"You'd leave cause you're impatient and hard up all the time."

"So are you!"

Tim laughed. "I guess I like you more than sex right now. Besides, you owe me a blow job." He sobered. "Listen, I ain't gonna push you. I wanna fuck you, but not if you're gonna keep waking me all night, freaked out about it." He hesitated. He wanted to say something nicer. But, he wasn't really sure how. The room was still spinning.

"It's okay." Dally pushed back his sweaty hair. "It wasn't just that. I just wanted to know if it'd be any better if I actually said yes first. And...I dunno. You're good at everything else. I didn't think you'd suck at fucking."

Tim punched him in the shoulder. "Don't get wise. I may be half-crocked but I'll still beat your ass."

Dally laughed. "Well, you do suck at it. Or maybe I do. But, I figure you done it before, and you ain't got no hang ups so it's your fault it sucked."

"Boy, you are walking on paper thin ice with me."

Dally leaned his head back against Tim's shoulder. He was already starting to drift. "Nothin' strange about that."

Tim was quiet for a long time after. "Dally," he whispered finally. "I'm with you for good reason, you know."

But, the blond was already asleep.

A/N: Gross. I'm in a slump, sigh. This story is just dragging... sad face


	35. Chapter 35

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 35

A/N: Hey all...if you've read anything of mine, and if you've reviewed it anonymously and left an email, I have probably responded, and have probably neglected to tell you who I am and what the email is referencing. So, if anyone has received an email from a babbling lunatic about anything S.E. Hinton related, there is an 85 chance it is me (and a 15 chance it's another crazy fan). Sorry. Computers make me stupid. :)

P.S. I've backed myself into a corner here. I'd make an absolutely terrible criminal.

This chapter is once again a bit muddled (any comments appreciated!) but I think I'm on the road to writing-recovery. I hope.

xxxx

"What's the deal in Oklahoma City."

Dally yawned and turned over.

"Wake the fuck up, Dallas. I got business to deal with."

"What you want with Oklahoma City?" Dally said sleepily.

"You lived there?"

"Yeah..."

"I need connections."

Connections...Dally tried to force his mind to wake up. It was light out. He was so tired. Had they been talking about Oklahoma City? "Connections to what?"

"Anything," Tim said impatiently.

Dally groaned and buried himself into the covers.

"Wake _up_, Dallas!"

Dally sat up and rubbed his eyes. "You want drugs? The meth scene out there is fucking crazy..."

"You know I don't stand for that speed shit, Dallas."

"You sure?" Dally grinned slyly. "Heard it makes sex pretty damn good."

"Heard your dick falls off a couple months after you start using."

Dally suppressed a yawn. "Tim, I don't know what the hell you're talking about. You need connections..."

"Any kind of action. Money. No drugs...smuggling, gang action, booze, whatever you got. Something interesting."

"You figuring on migrating out there or something?" Dally mumbled. He flopped back over and closed his eyes. It was just too hard to fight it...

Tim gripped the front of his shirt and yanked him back up. "I need a reason to give why I've been spending so much time with you and not where I should be. Anything."

Dally studied him through bleary eyes. Tim was looking angry and a little pale. He was probably still hung-over. Dally didn't feel like getting yelled at again, he didn't feel like fighting. He wanted to go back to sleep. "I knew a guy who used to run a car scam out there."

"A car scam?"

"Yeah." He couldn't have suppressed the yawn if he'd tried. "Fuck, I'm beat. You needed to figure this out first thing in the morning?"

"I need to get you out of here, and I need to figure it out before I do that," Tim said through clenched teeth.

Dally groaned again. Tim was getting a little too pushy for his taste. It was too damn early for this shit. He was tired of playing guess-my-reaction with Tim. He was tired of being confused. He was_ tired_.

"The only thing worth getting into in Oke City is speed," he said flatly. "If that ain't an option look somewhere else."

Tim frowned. "You said-"

"I'd try a little harder to help you out if I wasn't so damn tired," Dally said, rubbing his eyes. He slipped past Tim and grabbed his jacket. "You want me outta here? I'm gone."

"We gotta cool it for awhile. My gang's been sniffing around. I can't have you around causing trouble," Tim said quietly.

Dally shrugged. "Sure. You figure things out and look me up when you do." He buttoned his jeans and shoved his feet into his boots, then turned towards the door.

"Dallas-"

"If you're really desperate for action, the guy I knew was running a chop-shop outside the city. He was looking at expanding when I left - something about a dealership. I think the name was something Hallaway. Al Hallaway's, maybe."

Tim watched him closely. Dally could practically see the ideas clicking together in his brain. "That all?"

Dally smirked. "That's all I know, and it's all you'll know until you feel like makin' nice. Good luck with the gang, Shep. Let me know how it turns out." He stomped out of the room and down the stairs for good measure, but gave it up once outside. He lit a cigarette and shuffled down the street towards the Curtises', casting all thoughts of Tim from his mind. It was far too much effort to be angry when all he really wanted was to crawl into a warm bed and go back to sleep.

xxxx

Tim cleaned his room. He washed his sheets, and folded his laundry and even got out the broom and swept the dirt around his floor for awhile. He washed the walls and the window and thought about putting up an actual curtain instead of the towel that had been there since he could remember. He looked under the bed but Dallas had cleaned that nicely for him. When he was done he was sweaty and covered with dust and his room smelled like lemons but it felt for a second like he'd managed to fix things.

Dallas hadn't thrown a hissy fit which was what he'd expected. He'd just walked out. There hadn't been a shouting match. Tim had been kinda hoping for one. He wanted to scream at Dally until he understood. He wanted Dally to understand him less. He wanted the blond there beside him and wished he was a million miles away. He had trouble figuring out what he wanted.

Dally hadn't given him much to work with either, but Tim hadn't really thought that he'd be on easy street after one quick conversation. He hated to get into the drug scene. He hated to get into any scene that took him an hour and a half out of Tulsa, but he hadn't left himself with many options.

Tim sat down on his newly made bed and stared at the wall trying to calm himself. It had been a long time since he'd felt the edge of panic.

xxxx

"Wakey, wakey, rise and shine!"

In his dream, Dallas throttled Two-Bit. He cracked open an eye and instantly regretted it.

"Oh, Mr. Sun, Sun, Mr. Golden Sun, please shine down on-"

Dally pulled his jacket up over his head and curled into a ball. "I'll sun you, Soda Curtis," he mumbled.

"It's two-thirty in the afternoon you lazy bum!" Two-Bit said cheerfully.

Dally sat up quickly. When even Two-Bit was calling you a lazy bum, you were a lazy bum.

"How come you're sleeping here in the lot?" Two-Bit cocked an eyebrow. "Trouble in paradise?"

"Shut up," Dally groaned.

"How come you're not at Tim's making sweet, sweet love?" Soda teased.

Dally swiftly pulled the legs out from under him. "Came looking for you, sweetheart," he said snarkily.

Soda beamed at him. "Nuh-uh, I am sa-tis-FIED, baby."

Dally lit a cigarette. "Sandy gave it up, huh? Hope you rammed her good."

"Still sore about that rumor, huh?" Two-BIt said, laughing.

"Lousy bitch is ruining my rep."

Soda leapt from the ground and tackled Dally. "Don't call her a 'lousy bitch!'"

Dally topped him easily. "Holler uncle!" he yelled unnecessarily. It felt good to be on top.

Soda struggled. "Fuck off."

Dallas had never had much patience. He rolled off Sodapop.

"How'd you like it if someone called Sylvia a 'bitch', huh?" Soda glared at Dally.

Dally shrugged. "Wouldn't care at all. Broad can take care of herself." He grinned. "And she is a bitch. One of her good points."

Two-Bit grinned. "Okay, how would you like it if someone called Tim a 'lousy bastard?'"

Dally started to shrug, but was overtaken by a massive wave of irritation. "Tim IS a lousy bastard. He's a fucking cock-sucker and he can rot in hell for all I care. He oughtta jump up his own ass and die, do the rest of the world a favor."

There was a short silence.

Two-Bit cleared his throat. "Uh, yeah," he agreed.

Soda picked at the grass. "Sure, Dally. Whatever you say."

Dally folded his arms behind his head and leaned back against the grass. "Sylvia though...that chick is good times. Real simple."

"Really?" Soda propped himself up on his elbows. "Seems like a handful."

Dally grinned. "Yeah, she's a spit-fire but...you seen her right?"

"She is one hot blonde," Two-Bit said and burped. "Y'all wanna head on down to the Dingo? I could use a burger."

Soda jumped up. "I got work in an hour...you really like her, Dal?"

"I really like what she does in the sack," Dally said impishly.

Two-Bit whistled. "That's a story I ain't heard yet."

Dally loped down the street with the two, mixing fact with fiction and feeling as if he never needed to see Tim again.

xxxx

The next two days were a blur. He drove to Oklahoma City but the dealership Dallas had mentioned had been either shut down or existed in a vacuum. He was offered speed by at least five guys, just wandering around that part of town. It didn't improve his mood. He met with Carmen and couldn't remember the sex. He thought he might have hit on Sandy again. He drank.

Tim remember mighty little of those two days beyond the feeling of spinning out of control.

Saturday night, he was sprawled across the end of his bed watching the clock tick closer to eight o'clock. Alone.

7:56. He felt sick. He took a swallow of bourbon. His stomach gurgled, full of liquid. He hadn't eaten a solid meal yet that day.

7:58. He should go to Buck's. He hadn't set a time, but the boys would be starting to show up within the hour. He wondered what he was going to tell them.

8:00. He couldn't think. He couldn't even panic. His mind had frozen in a state somewhere between desperate and resigned. He'd just have to show up with nothing and deal with the consequence.

8:03. Tim threw up the bourbon.

xxxx

A/N: Drama, drama, drama. I guess it's Tim's turn to overreact a little. Tsk, what a drama queen. (Haha.) Too much? Probably. Let me know. :)


	36. Chapter 36

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 36

A/N: Hmm...I'm not sure I like how I write Soda and Steve. Let me know what you think, if you've got time.

P.S. Again, I'm sorry about the idiotic gang crimes.

xxxx

"Sodapop, you're such a fucking weeny."

"I'm not going to the party."

"Come ooooon, it's gonna be a helluva lotta fun."

"I'm not going to the party."

"You can't stay at home on a Saturday night, Soda."

"Beer, Soda. Beer."

"I'm not going to the party! I'm not going to the party!"

Dally exchanged a look with Two-Bit. They'd spent the past hour hanging around the gas station using every trick they knew to try and convince Soda to go to Buck's, but he wasn't having any.

"Fine." Dally glared at Soda. "Forget it, Two-Bit, he's too much of a pussy to go."

Soda ignored him.

"Mama's boy," Dally taunted.

Two-Bit yawned. "Alright, I give up." He winked at Dally and called over his shoulder into the garage. "Oh Stevie, could ya come here a second?"

Steve ambled slowly out of the garage. "No good, Two-Bit. That clunker's a goner. Dally, there ain't no smoking allowed in a gas station, you idiot."

Two-Bit swore. "Come on, don't kill my first love Stevie! She's been so good to me."

Dally put his cigarettes back into his pocket. "Alright, Steve, you're our last hope."

Two-Bit propped himself up on a filler station. "Soda here says he won't go to the party at Buck's, no way no how."

"I'm taking Sandy out. Buck's ain't a good place for a lady," Soda said stubbornly.

"Too bad you're such a lady," Two-Bit said.

"I'm not going to the party."

Steve looked at Soda carefully for a second, sizing him up, and wiped his hands on a rag. "Of course he don't want to go," he said slowly. "Sandy won't like it."

"Right!" Soda said triumphantly.

"Just cause Evie and Sylvia and Angela and Kathy and, hmm, pretty much all her friends like parties and are going to Buck's don't mean she'd like it right?"

Soda swallowed. "Um, well..."

"And, what with women's lib, she's the one making the rules these days, ain't that right Soda?"

"Wait a minute..."

"And I know you don't wanna upset mommy, Soda. Fifteen years old," Steve shook his head. "Back when I was that age, I didn't put a toe outta line." He smirked. "Wait, now that ain't right..."

"This ain't about my mom!"

"Of course not," Steve agreed. "It's your choice. And Sandy's. Heck you don't even like parties no more. Sandy's turning you into a regular ol' Soc."

"i ain't a Soc!" Soda yelled, his face red with effort.

Steve paused. "Yeah? You still like going to greaser parties?"

"Damn straight!"

"And, you know what, you never given your parents a day of trouble or asked them for nothing."

"No, I ain't!"

"And you don't have to tell your mom. It's not like you're doing anything outta the ordinary, anyway, Darry used to be wild when he was fifteen and she lived through that."

"Yeah, whatever Darry can do, I can do."

"And Sandy's getting a little demanding. Her and Evie. We work hard for our money, and take 'em out nice places, how come they can't just come out with us once in awhile and have some real fun, huh? You been working hard all day right?"

Soda nodded.

"Whose money you earning?"

"Mine."

"How you spend it?"

"Taking out Sandy."

"How do you WANT to spend it?"

"Having some fun!"

"What's more fun, a greaser party or some dumb Socy diner?"

"The party!"

Steve snapped his fingers. "You know what, you're right. It's our money, we oughtta have some fun if we're gonna spend it all on the girls. I'm gonna take Evie to the party. Won't hurt her none, hell, she'll like it so long as I buy her a drink or two. I'm gonna have some fun tonight with my buddies, ain't that right Soda?"

"Hell, yeah. Let's go to the party!"

Steve grinned. "Good boy."

xxxx

Tim made his way dizzily down the street to Buck's. He'd gotten as drunk as he could have and was feeling altogether much better about the situation he'd gotten himself into.

He staggered up to the front door and greeted Buck half-heartedly before moving towards his usual station.

"What's the deal, Shepard?"

Tim shrugged dropping into his seat. He couldn't tell who had spoken, or how many there were...was that Curly?

"You got a deal for us?"

He laughed. "How you boys feel about speed?"

"Drugs?" Definitely Curly. "Thought you weren't into that Tim."

"I'm not." He leaned back against the wall and helped himself to some peanuts.

"You call us here for a reason?" The voice was Donny's and it brought the room sharply back into focus. "I talked to Brumly and they said they ain't heard from you in awhile but they're cool with whatever you got going."

"Fucking Winston," Tim said carelessly. "Told me there was a car job out there that's been under for awhile now." He paused. Had someone mentioned Brumly?

"Are you drunk?" Curly's voice was right in his ear.

"Yes." No point in fucking around.

"Winston, eh? That who you been spending your time with?" Donny's eyes glittered like a fish's. Tim was hungry.

He blinked hard a few times, trying to clear his vision. Thoughts and sounds and faces were swimming in and out of his perception and he couldn't seem to keep anything straight.

"You told us there was a deal in Oklahoma City. What the fuck's going on Shepard. Is Winston hooking you up with that or what?"

Tim closed his eyes. Oklahoma City...what did he know about Oklahoma City? A long, long time ago...

Tim remembered - he had been maybe five or six. Curly had been too young and Angela had been a baby, but that summer he and his dad climbed into the truck and drove for what had then seemed like forever to get to the Oklahoma State Fair.

He remembered being so excited he could hardly sit still in the truck and it had pissed his pop off something awful. He had threatened to turn right around and go home if Tim didn't pipe down. Tim had been young enough that he'd taken his pop seriously.

It had been an uncommonly beautiful day with just the right amount of heat. Blue skies, bright sun, a gentle breeze... They'd laughed a lot, and Tim's dad had had a smile on his face the entire day, chasing Tim around the fair. It had been perfect. Hadn't it? Tim wasn't sure if he remembered it that way or if he'd made it up later on, but he liked the memory and didn't really care. Reality was what you made it.

He knew for sure he ate a corn-dog and cotton candy, and rode the ferris wheel for the first time in his life because he remembered the pink-colored puke and he still couldn't stand heights. He remembered wanting to play at the shooting booths, but his father had said no, that they were always a scam. But, he'd promised to show Tim how to fire a real one, when he was old enough.

He remembered sitting in the hazy sun, nestled beside his dad at the racetrack watching the horses run round and round until his eyelids drooped and he'd fallen asleep...

"Tim! Wake up!"

His eyes snapped open. "Racetrack," he said.

"What?" The room spun upside down and sideways and settled itself giving Tim a view of a dozen pairs of eyes staring him down.

"There is a racetrack in the Oklahoma State Fair in Oke City," Tim said calmly, quietly, deadpan. He wanted to scream. "A couple a days this summer they'll have races during the fair, and we're gonna fix them."

Silence.

"There are tons of folk going through that fair," Tim continued. He was aware that he was over-pronouncing every word but it was better to spit than to slur. "Make good money."

"Who you know on the inside?" Donny asked suspiciously.

"A rider."

"What rider?"

Tim allowed himself a smile. "Winston is a first class horseman," he said clearly. Tim knew Dally had told everyone he could that he was dynamite on a horse, and any chance he got to show them he would. "I was aiming at using one of them Brumly boys, but better a smart horseman than an idiot thug. Dallas ain't one of our outfit so the fuzz can't prove it was us if he gets caught."

He shook his head and rolled his eyes theatrically. "Took a hell of a lot of talking to convince that mother-fucker to help us out," he muttered, just loud enough to be heard.

"Dally going to want a cut? He won't cheat for free," Curly pointed out. "Against his morals."

Tim smiled ironically. "He don't have to know he's cheatin'." The day Curly was one step ahead of him, would be the day he'd shoot himself.

He could feel the tension in the room dissolve in every inch of his skin and it took all his self-control not to giggle out-loud. He wasn't done.

"I'm gonna need someone out there." He smiled broadly. "Pinter, you're my man."

Enemy down.

"Want you to talk to Buck later - we give him a cut and he'll lend us a quarter horse for Ol' Dally." It was an effort to stop himself from talking. His plans were getting scrambled - he'd save the actual organization for when he was clear-headed.

Tim stood, trying not to sway. "Just called you boys in to give the heads up on this deal. Won't happen for awhile." He grinned, breaking character. "Enjoy the party."

TIm left the room, weaving only a little. He felt damn good about himself.

xxxx

Curly watched his brother stagger drunkenly through the door. Donny gave him a look of incredulity and followed with the purposeful swagger that belonged on Tim. Curly swallowed and picked up a beer. Avoided the stares, the glares that were directed at him in his brother's absence. Someone coughed, someone else laughed. Words were exchanged in low tones that he couldn't make out.

Tim was fucked.


	37. Chapter 37

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 37

A/N: Sorry, this chapter is extremely short. I couldn't write anymore after the end of this.

**Rated M** for...I don't even know what. For perverse thought.

P.S. I know we're not supposed to respond to reviews here, but I'd just like to say that I take ALL serious reviews, er, seriously. :)

xxxx

"How the hell did I ever agree to this," Soda whispered sharply. Dally gave him a once over and smirked. Sandy was clinging to his arm like wet toilet paper, looking terrified every time anyone resembling a hood walked past. She'd even whimpered a little when Tim had slunk by, looking calmly dangerous with his detached, shark-like smile and piercing eyes. He'd been wearing his black leather jacket and dirty jeans, his eyes had been shadowed, his hair had been grease-less except for what came naturally and a dark stumble covered his cheeks. He hadn't even said hello to Dallas on his way out.

"Leave if you're so damn miserable," Dally said loudly, catching Sandy's eye.

"You can't leave," Sylvia squealed. "Who will I talk to?" She pouted at Dallas. "Be nice."

Dally shrugged. With one hand tangled in his hair and the other scraping long nails across his thigh an inch from his dick, Sylvia was calling the shots. He didn't mind. "Whatever you want, baby," he said lazily and slid the tips of his fingers into the waistband of her skirt. She gave him a warning look, but made no move to pull out his hand.

Dally squirmed a little and tugged on his jeans. They felt unnaturally tight, and got a little bit smaller every time Sylvia rubbed his leg. Sylvia was dressed decently enough, her skirt to her knees and her sweater coming up to her neck. But the second Dally had come into Buck's she'd slid onto his knee, and that skirt had ridden up high enough for him to see the lacy edges of her stockings. He'd told himself he'd wait two hours before dragging her to the bedroom; with twenty minutes left on the clock, he was getting restless.

"You can talk to your boyfriend," Sandy announced suddenly. "I want to get out of here and talk to mine." She gave Soda a pleading look. "Can't we just go out for dinner like planned?"

Soda gave her a helpless look. "This wasn't my idea, really." He aimed a glare at Steve who was as wrapped up in his girl as Dallas had ever seen him. "Someone confused me."

"Wasn't too hard," Two-Bit said cheerfully. "You're a natural confused, Curtis." He was dateless again. Dallas couldn't see how he put up with a broad who didn't show up half the time, but then again, Two-Bit wasn't exactly Mr. Reliable himself. He'd been giving Angela Shepard the eye again and had cracked one dirty joke after the next until she'd stumbled from the room. Dallas had seen her drink before, in tiny lady-like sips, but she was hammered tonight. He wondered what it was about life that made the people he spent time with seem to drink so much more.

"You leave my sister alone!"

Dally closed his eyes. Right on cue, Curly Shepard stomped in, red in the face and looking for all the world like a five-year-old brat about to hold his breath. Dally pulled Sylvia close, and leaned over to whisper in her ear.

"You wanna get outta here?"

Sylvia smiled, in that sly, knowing way she had that was growing on him more every day. "It's only been an hour and forty-five. You couldn't make it to two?"

Dally started. He hadn't told her about his time-limit.

"I ain't hitting on your sister," Two-Bit was protesting.

"That ain't what she told me!"

"She's drunk," Steve said, coming up for air momentarily. "You oughtta keep a better watch on your sister Curly. She's headed for trouble all by herself without getting involved with Two-Bit."

Curly swelled like a ripe peach, but he didn't have a chance to respond.

"Your sister ain't the only one in your family who's hitting the booze hard lately." Dally looked over at the boy who spoke. He had reddish brown hair and a stocky build and he might have been good-looking but for the longish, hooked nose sitting crookedly on his face. He was as red as Curly.

Dally rolled his eyes. Kiddie fights didn't interest him. He slipped his other hand up Sylvia's back and made for her bra clasp.

"Dallas!" she squealed. He winced. He still couldn't stand that fake girlishness that popped up whenever she felt comfortable.

"Don't get prissy," he growled. "You don't go with me for the romance of it, and you know it."

She smiled again, all sass. "I know what you're here for, and if I want to keep you around longer I ain't gonna give up what you want so easily..._Winston_," she said sweetly. She sized him up with her cool gray eyes. "I can read you like a map."

He watched her, amused. She was confident, cool as a cucumber around him when she should have every reason to be scared. She reminded him of Tim in that respect. But, unlike Tim, he could dominate her easily if he wanted. Unlike Tim, that's exactly what she wanted.

"Winston? I thought you were friendlier than that," he murmured. He hooked a finger around her bra strap. "Thought you were nice."

She twisted her fingers gently in his hair. "I can be real friendly, Dallas. I can be real nice." She clasped her fingers tight, pulling the hair almost from his head. "But, that's not what you want, is it, baby?"

There was a yell. Curly had swung at the hooked-nose boy. Dally flicked his eyes in their direction. Two-Bit had the stranger in his grasp, someone he didn't recognize held Curly.

"You take it back!" Curly yelled, struggling.

Behind him, Steve was shirtless. Evie may as well have been for all the buttons Steve had undone. Dally unhooked Sylvia's bra.

She slapped him. Hard. "I ain't no tramp," she said, her voice low. Her other hand was still gripping his hair.

He would have slapped her right back but the offending hand was back on his thigh, slid up as far as it would go. He opened his mouth and she closed it for him with hers.

"You take it back, Pinter!"

His heart was going full speed. Sylvia slid one sharp-nailed finger up an inch and hit home.

"I won't. Your brother's been fucking up for a week and I ain't gonna stand for this shit no more. You ask me, he's been spending too much time with the wrong boys."

Dally's heart pounded in his chest. He'd sat through police interrogations on more than one occasion, and no amount of fists or nightsticks had been able to make him lose his cool then. Sylvia had him thrashing with the tip of one finger. He opened his eyes and looked past the halo of her hair to where this "Pinter" was standing, eyes blazing and fists at his side.

"Showing up drunk, with no plans except one that relies on Winston. What the fuck is your brother doing?"

What had Tim been saying? Who the hell was this kid anyway? Sylvia's tongue was suddenly in his mouth. She slid his hand around under her shirt and clasped it to her breast under her bra and Dally's heart threatened to give out.

"He's doing what he always does-"

"I bet I know what your brother's doing," Pinter sneered. "I bet I know _who_ he's doing."

Pinter whipped around and met his eyes and Dally's heart stopped for real.

"That ain't none of your business!" Curly screamed, and from the look in Pinter's eyes it was the wrong thing to say.

"Shut up, you idiot," Two-Bit said in a hushed tone laced with terror.

"It's not true," Sandy sobbed. "I made it up..."

"No, it's my fault, and I swear it ain't true." Sodapop was struggling to stand up beside him, shaking his shoulder violently.

Sylvia was oblivious on his lap. She'd been worming a hand through his zipper. Dally's head spun. He fought for air around her mouth and got none.

"It ain't true, huh?" Pinter sneered. "Should I ask the only person here who knows for sure?"

Sylvia gasped and straddled him suddenly, wrapping both legs around his waist. Dally groaned and picked her up, stumbling out the door with all eyes on him. He pulled up her skirt in the darkened hallway, and slammed into the bathroom on the other side. He left the door open a crack while he fucked her, knowing they could still hear him.

xxxx

A/N: This'll probably be my last post for awhile (like a week-ish) because I need to clear my head from this scrambled, angsty plot. Yeesh. I hope it gets a little happier a bit later, but... heh, I'm not optimistic.


	38. Chapter 38

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 38

A/N: Thirty-eight? This is crazy! I'm not even near the end. I'm also tired of the doomsday crap. None of that in this chapter. I need a break. I need a Kit-Kat. Or a cigarette. dies coughing

I feel like this keeps getting worse. I know I keep saying, but honestly, I love the CC!

P.S. My updating for the next month will be sporadic. A million apologies! I'm doing something so crazy, I can't believe it myself (I blame the other writers who stuck the thought in my brain until I couldn't ignore it). I'm also going to Ottawa for a three-week long music fest. SCORE!!! Lack of sleep + crazazy music + massive planned caffeine intake inspiration for this fic. I'll be happier too, so this fic will be less...you know. Non-happy. :)

xxxx

Dally leaned back against the bed, smoking his third cigarette. The sex had been wilder than anything he was used to and he needed the nicotine to calm him down some. Sylvia was sprawled beside him on the bed, naked and watching him.

"You hear them at all downstairs?" he said finally.

She smiled. "Yeah, they were yelling pretty loudly." She yawned. "Before you get all sulky, lemme just say that I don't give a shit what you've done. I been with a lot worse than you before." The hardness in her eyes spoke volumes.

Dally stared at her, astounded. "You don't care?"

She stretched, then snatched the cigarette out of his hand. "If you start acting stupid and get caught, even by me, then I'm done with you for good and I'll side with anyone against you. Otherwise do whatever the fuck you want." She smirked. "That's my plan, anyway."

He messed up her hair, and laughed with her. The more time he spent with her, the more she reminded Dally of himself.

"You're quite a catch," he said honestly.

"Catch nothing," she said wickedly. "I hooked you."

xxxx

"Dallas!" Sodapop spotted Dally coming half a block away and leapt to his feet. He managed a couple steps before tripping.

He gazed up at Dally from the ground. "I'm glad you're here." He gave Dally his standard crazy grin.

Dally lit a cigarette. "What? You think I'd just crawl into a hole? I ain't scared of that dumb kid." He paused. "Who the hell was he anyway?"

"Donny Pinter. He's in Tim's gang," Steve said from the steps. He was looking at Dally strangely and smoking.

Dally gave him a cool look. "Ain't never heard of him."

"S'okay, he won't be around much longer if he keeps pissing people off like that." Soda watched Dally admiringly. "Boy, you sure made him look like an idiot the way you and Sylvia were going at it. Didja even hear what he said?"

Dally shrugged."Bits and pieces. Sounded like shit to me. Can't say I care."

Steve scowled. "You should care. It's your rep."

"Steve, I ain't never been one for following rules," Dallas said impatiently. "I ain't looking to trade one person's law in for another's."

Soda cleared his throat nervously. "But, you haven't been doing anything, anyway."

Dally shrugged. "Yeah, well..." He looked at Steve. He thought about what Sylvia had said. _Do anything stupid..._

With an effort, he shut himself up. "No. I haven't done anything."

Steve nodded. "Well, it'd give you a reason for a fight, at least." He grinned. "Like to see you stomp that little fucker."

Dally smirked back. "Like to see that myself."

xxxx

The day passed quickly into night. Dally hung around until dinner-time, alternately watching Darry help Ponyboy with his homework and helping Sodapop pretend to do his. He went out with Johnny when the Curtises sat down to their Sunday dinner and the two shared a couple of R.C. colas and moon pies. They headed back in time to see Steve dash out of his house like the devil was after him, and the three of them continued back to the Curtises' together.

Steve started up a game of cards, and Mrs. Curtis let him, seeing as he would be staying the night anyway. Soda lost all his money within the first fifteen minutes and spent the rest of the game helping Dallas lose his. Ponyboy was squirreled away behind a book despite Steve's graceless attempt to draw him into the game ("Don't be such a baby, Pony!"). Darry managed a streak of luck and when Dallas left for the bathroom he was giving Steve a run for his money.

This was what he'd been missing. Hanging out with the guys as just a regular one of the guys, not as a freak, not as a lover. Until Sylvia, Soda had been the only one to treat him normally after finding out - Angela had flipped, Sandy had blabbed, Two-Bit treated him like he was an idiot. And Tim... He didn't even want to think about how much their relationship had changed.

There was a knock at the bathroom door. "There's someone for you here Dal," Darry's voice said, muffled by the walls.

"Uh, yeah one sec."

"It's Tim."

WHAT.

"He says he needs to talk to you. Something important."

Dally froze, surprised, and slightly annoyed. He'd only just got away, and Tim was back already.

"Dal?"

"Coming!" Dally yelled, his voice strangely high pitched.

He wrenched open the bathroom door and sprinted back to the kitchen where Tim stood awkwardly, Mr. Curtis eyeing him suspiciously, and Mrs. Curtis warmly offering him a cool drink.

"Dallas," Tim said, looking relieved. He'd never been there before, only knew the place as where he dropped Dallas off. He didn't look as if he liked the idea of crashing a house owned by people he didn't know too well.

Dally hurried past Tim out to door into the cool night. "C'mere," he hissed, from the dark, beckoning Tim farther away from the Curtis property. "What the hell do ya want?"

Tim stared helplessly at Dallas. He didn't look entirely sure himself. "Come over," he said instead. "I got something I wanna talk to you about."

Dally sighed dramatically. He liked being with Tim well enough, but there was suddenly this tension between them that he wasn't too fond of. He'd been looking forward to some more time with the guys. "Fine. Hold on a sec." He jogged back to the Curtis's.

"Hey, y'all, I'm gonna take off," he called into the house. Soda raised an eyebrow at him.

"That your best friend?" Mrs. Curtis was drying the dishes.

"Yeah," Dally lied, and hurried away before he blew his cover. He didn't mind lying, but it was different this time. There was no end to this lie in sight, and he was losing interest. Dallas wasn't known for having a long attention span.

Tim had started away from the house. Dally hurried to catch him up, his shoes scrapping on the sidewalk.

"What do you want?" he asked crossly.

Tim stopped and gave him a longing look. "I'm sorry," he said abruptly. "But, you shouldn't have pressed." He turned and stalked off.

Pressed? Dally's brow furrowed as he tried to make out Tim's meaning. "Wait," he called and tore off after Tim. "Are you talking about those questions?"

Tim stopped. "You should have minded your own business, like I told you," he said roughly.

Dally shook his head. You're a fucking nutcase, Tim, he thought furiously. Flip out over nothing and apologize three days later. I didn't exactly beat it all out of you, either. I didn't force you to talk, you crazy...

"I shouldn' ta yelled."

Dally's anger burned out. He'd never been good at holding grudges anyway. That was Tim's deal. "S'okay." He rubbed his arms. The night had cooled off quite a bit. "How's your gang?"

Tim laughed hollowly. "Wish I knew for sure." He started walking again.

Dally followed him. It didn't matter that he'd wanted some time apart. Tim was like a magnet. "You figure we cooled off enough for them?"

Tim shrugged and didn't turn around.

Dally stopped. "Okay," he said, the disappointment in his voice too obvious for his liking. "Well..."

Tim whipped around. "I showed up at a stranger's house looking for you, Dal. Do I gotta spell everything out for ya?" He swallowed. "Come over."

Dally barely had time to be surprised before Tim turned around again.

Tim power-walked home leaving Dallas to half-run half-skip to keep up with him. He scrambled up the stairs after Tim and followed him into the bedroom. Tim sat stiffly on the bed and Dallas followed suit.

"Well?"

Tim stared at him, impassive.

Dally stared back. He blinked. Damn, he thought.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Dallas trying his hardest not to fidget. He counted to two-hundred-Mississippi before he gave up. Five more seconds and he was going to start babbling like an idiot.

To his abject shock Tim cracked first. "I missed you," he said suddenly, roughly, and pulled Dallas to him close. He squeezed him so hard Dally feared for his ribs. "I really... I _missed_ you."

"You sound surprised," Dally gasped and eased Tim's grip a bit.

"I am."

"Well, me too," Dally said quickly. Tim sounded dangerously emotional. "I mean, I missed you, too." He twisted off Tim's lap. "I thought you were done with me for good, the way you been acting."

Tim rubbed his eyes. "Yeah, can see why you'd think that. Tried...but couldn't seem to... I just..."

Dally waited for the explanation, but Tim just shook his head.

Dally frowned. "This back and forth stuff is stupid, you know? We oughtta either break it off or just keep on..."

Tim nodded dumbly.

Dally sighed in frustration and tried to piece together his knowledge about Tim and the way he communicated. Yes meant maybe. No meant maybe. A shrug meant maybe. Tim wasn't good with commitment.

Dally knew that. He wondered vaguely when his own hang-up about commitment had disappeared. Then Tim kissed him and he stopped wondering.

Tim nuzzled against his neck, and with the practiced ease of a serial womanizer turned romance into raunch.

Dally groaned feeling Tim's hand slid between his thighs. Sex? he asked himself.

"Sex?" Tim asked him.

Why the hell not?

He flopped against the bed and let Tim do whatever it was he needed to get ready. Let Tim worry about the mechanics this time. Dally was just happy to be lying in a real bed again. He wiggled in the bed, taking in the smell of fresh laundry.

Tim raised his eyebrows. "You look comfy."

Dally winked. "Yeah, I'm real comfortable. Come. For. Table."

"Shut up," Tim said laughing. He met Dally's eyes and smiled for real. Dally grinned back at him. It'd been a while since he'd seen Tim relax.

It hurt like hell for the first thirty seconds but Tim managed to distract him with some well-placed hand activity.

"Mmm," Dally moaned, bucking against Tim's hand, but he regretted it when pain shot through his body. He gave it up and lay still as Tim pushed in.

"Oh, hell yeah," Tim panted.

In spite of the pain, Dally couldn't help grinning. "Feel good?"

Tim groaned. "One of these days I'm gonna teach you to like sex."

One of these days I'll top you and see how much you like it, Dally thought, gritting his teeth.

Dally relaxed himself as much as possible and watched Tim with a detached curiosity. Tim looked for all the world like he was the one in pain. He was dripping sweat though he was barely moving half a foot back and forth. Every so often he'd remember that Dallas actually had a dick too, but the feeble attempts at pleasuring him made Dally want to laugh more than moan.

"Oh, God..." Tim opened his eyes for the first time in five minutes. "You doing okay?" he gasped.

"Sure," Dally said, smiling. He wasn't, but it was nice that Tim bothered to ask, given his current condition. Dally didn't figure he'd be in pain much longer, according to the frantic tone of the bedsprings, at least.

"Oh, shit, oh, fuck, oh, _Christ_..."

Dally grinned and tensed his muscles as much as his pain tolerance would allow. Then he leaned back and watched Tim get religious.

xxxx

Tim wasn't used to being the loud one in bed, but he certainly couldn't say he minded it. He felt guilty and sleepy and furiously happy once it was done. Typical sex.

He smoked lazily in the bed and fought off sleep as best he could. Dally reached over a took his smoke.

"You'll fall asleep and kill us both, idiot." Then he took a drag.

Tim smiled. "How you feel about horse racing this summer Dally?" He could feel Dally shift and knew he was interested. "State Fair's got a track. Buck'll lend you a horse and I'll drive ya - hell, I ain't never seen you ride."

"Okay," Dally said eagerly. "Hey, maybe you could try it out?"

Tim laughed. "I got enough trouble trying to stay on top of you." He paused. He could tell Dally the truth. "Listen..."

"It's fun," Dally said quickly. A weak argument. "Make a real man outta you." He punched Tim's shoulder. "Something honest you could do for once." He face was glowing and he was smiling softer than Tim had ever seen him.

Tim swallowed the confession. "I'd rather just watch you." He watched the grin spread across Dally's face. Don't be an idiot, he thought. Question me for once...

"Okay. Sounds good," Dally said breezily and snuggled down in the sheets. He yawned. "Be good to get out of Tulsa for awhile. This scene..." He shook his head. "It'd just be good to get away." He leaned his head against Tim's shoulder. "'Night, Tim." Five seconds later he was out.

Tim's body was demanding sleep, but he couldn't seem to stop watching Dally breathe.

xxxx

A/N: Aww. Sweet. Gross.


	39. Chapter 39

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 39

A/N: So, my updating this past month was less "sporadic" and more "non-existent". Sorry about that. I have a good excuse for the past week – I was in Vancouver!! Exciting. I'm off to the cottage for a week, where I may or may not have internet, so the next update will probably not be for a week. Sorry again!

P.S. I'm a little out of practice, sorry. This is the stupidest chapter ever and makes no sense, but hopefully, is a little funny. Sorry, sorry, sorry, what can I say? Constructive criticisms appreciated, anyway.

xxx

Tim was drunk with sex.

Between Carmen's take-charge sexuality, Sandy's demure acquiescence and Dallas' helpless passion he had hit a sensory overload.

Tim woke the next morning feeling as if he'd been sleeping on an exploded cactus. He squirmed in the bed, trying to rearrange Dallas into a pillow and having no success. The kid was apparently made of bones and fluids. He tried moving Dally from underneath him to one side of the bed, but the blond only snorted at him blearily, mumbled a few swear words and flung his arm into the only clear space left on the bed.

Tim gave up on sleep and peeled himself off Dallas. He trotted to the bathroom and plunged himself into a very comfortable shower. He felt serenely clueless, as if the last night's sex had scrambled his brain into forgetting the rest of his life. He wondered if this was what it felt like to be a normal person, not having to worry about keeping a criminal gang in check.

I could get used to this, he mused, resolving to leave off thinking about his gang for a day. He picked up the soap, and out of habit, started to plan his day. He got as far as "eat breakfast" before breaking his resolve. Normal people lead boring lives, he decided.

xxx

Dally woke up feeling as if he'd been sleeping under a troll. Tim smelled like old sex, which was not nearly as pleasant as new sex. He was being prodded in the side by Tim, and was way too sleepy to figure out why.

"Fuck…ge' off…crazy…assmonkey…"

He went back to sleep.

xxx

Tim sat down in the tub, leaving the shower running, and leaned back against the side. He was abruptly beaned by the tap, and decided to droop forward instead. He'd spent fifteen minutes dragging his tired brain through the possible solutions with his gang over and over, and could come up with only one constant:

"I am so fucked."

He checked his hands.

"And pruney."

Saying it aloud was somehow comforting.

Tim sighed and rubbed his fingers against his bleary eyes. He didn't want to think about this shit anymore. He wanted some food. He wanted to hang with the guys. He wanted to go to the Dingo and have a coke and have his girlfriend come and greet him with a kiss and not have to worry about getting castrated because his girlfriend had a dick.

Tim thought about what he wanted, and he thought about what he had and he decided that what he really wanted after all was to go back to sleep for about a million years. He leaned back tiredly against the tub.

"Ow, FUCK."

xxx

Dally's eyes snapped open. He could hear the water running and knew it was Tim. He suppressed a yawn and checked the time.

"Fucking early riser."

His rolled to the side of the bed. It felt surprisingly cool. So comfortable, he thought. I'll just lie here for a minute so I don't waste the comfortable-ness…

He woke up ten minutes later when the toilet flushed. Tim was out of the shower. He moaned for the hell of it and forced the blanket off of him. If he was cold he wouldn't go back to sleep, right?

He would.

Seven minutes later, Curly yelled at Tim to "hurry the fuck up, princess! What are you doing – curling your hair?"

Dally woke with a jolt. The room spun for a second and then settled with a perfect view of the clock. Get up Dallas, he commanded himself. But, he'd never been good at following orders. He closed his eyes for a minute…

The alarm went off. Dally threw the clock across the room and it shut up nicely.

He swung his legs out of the bed and gave the room a bleary once over. Pants in the left corner. He reached. So close…just three more feet…well, three and a half…maybe four…

Dally gave up and flopped backwards against the mattress. Nice bed, he thought, his eyes closing automatically. Lovely bed…

xxx

Tim rubbed the towel through his hair and thought about Dallas. Three weeks ago, he would have been the hardest thing to think about, but now, suddenly, it was easy. He could picture Dally in just about any situation, any mood, any position, sexual or not. He could imagine the feel of the blond's silky hair against his fingers or the roughness of his hands. He could close his eyes and see the exact shape of the scar he had on his upper left arm… The shape of Tim's fingernails from when he'd scrapped off half Dally's shoulder in a skin fight.

Tim smiled fondly in remembrance. Dally had shrieked like a girl, and had later picked at the scab until it had bled and scarred. The idiot had no self-control.

A pounding on the door interrupted his thoughts, and Curly's muffled voice filtered into the bathroom.

"What the fuck are you doing in there, Tim?"

Tim felt a stab of unjustified rage and caught control of himself halfway through it.

"I'M THINKING ABOUT my boyfriend," Tim whispered. Then he almost puked. That's the last time I say that word, he thought firmly. Dally was Dally, nothing else. He'd known him too long and too well to try and change that now.

"GROSS. Think somewhere else!"

Tim ignored his brother and picked up his toothbrush. He knew how Dally held his toothbrush too, in a death grip fist so he could saw back and forth frantically like he was trying to file his teeth away altogether. Tim shook himself out of it and brushed his teeth like a normal person. He knew Dally too well, if he could conjure up a vivid picture of him brushing his teeth. He had enough mental images, he could almost get rid of the real Dally.

Tim felt a pang just thinking that and he almost dropped his toothbrush. If he didn't figure out his situation, Dally might end up rid of _him._

He had to make sure that didn't happen. He had to be careful. He had to…had to…

Tim threw his toothbrush at the wall where it left a streak of foamy blue toothpaste.

"Fuck it," he snarled at nothing. He was what he was, and if someone had a problem with that…

Let them come, he thought viciously. I'll kill 'em all.

He growled and shot the mirror an angry glare. For a split second he felt afraid.

Damn I'm good, he thought.

Tim left the bathroom and padded back into his bedroom where Dallas was snuggled down in the sheets.

Tim smirked and rolled his eyes. Lazy ass. He'd let him sleep for a bit more, maybe wake him up at…

Tim reached for the clock and found it missing. Huh, he thought. Strange.

"Mmmahhflll… Heh, heh, that's right baby," Dally mumbled in his sleep.

Tim suppressed a laugh and shook his shoulder. "Dally, wake up."

"Wake up…" Dally replied snoozily.

"Dally."

"Dally…"

"Get the fuck up."

"Fuck up."

"DALLAS!"

Dally's eyes snapped open. "Hamburgers," he said clearly and closed his eyes.

Tim pulled the covers off the blond and ignored Dally's moans of protests. "Time to get up."

Dally sat up and glared at him. "What the fuck's the point in having a comfortable bed if you never sleep in it?"

"It's less comfortable when someone else is taking up all the room," Tim replied with more than a hint of irritation.

Dally yawned. "Yeah, I know, you're really putting on the pounds these days." Then he scarpered off to the bathroom before Tim put a fist in his face.

Tim collapsed down on the bed. Dally was right, he thought. It was very comfortable.

He opened his eyes to find Dally peeking up his towel.

"Ain't you already seen everything?" he asked lazily.

Dally didn't even look up. "Wanted another look."

Tim groaned and hefted himself off the bed.

Dally tossed him a shirt. "Curly gave me a dirty look."

"Probably cause you're fucking his brother."

"Maybe next time you don't tell the whole world."

Tim shrugged. "Pass me some underwear. Didn't tell the whole world. Thinking about it though."

Dally tossed Tim's boxers in the corner and handed him his jeans. "That right? Thinking about telling 'em about me too?"

Tim tossed back the jeans and picked up his boxers. "No."

"How come?" Dally snatched the boxers and tossed them back in the corner.

"Because."

"Because why?"

"Damnit Dallas!" Tim retrieved the underwear for the third time and pulled them on. "I ain't playing around."

Dally gave him a blank look. "About the boxers?"

"About anything."

Dally was on him in an instant. "You can't tell the whole world."

Tim sighed. "What if I leave you out of it?"

"That ain't fair," Dally said firmly. "I ain't cut out for lying."

Tim laughed. "Uh-huh."

"I mean it. This long term lying shit ain't fun anymore. You're the one who's built for that."

Tim shook his head. "I ain't liking the lying anymore than you are."

Dally sighed. "You really wanna tell."

Tim looked at him and pulled on his jeans. Dally looked a little too eager for his liking. He swallowed down the answer that threatened to pop up and tried to remind himself that he was a logical, intelligent person, and that if he gave Dally an inch he'd run straight to the land of crazy. "No," he said with an effort. "And you don't either if you know what's good for you." He stood up, pushing Dally off him.

Dally squinted at him. "Then you WERE playing." He pantsed Tim.


	40. Chapter 40

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 40

A/N: Hello all, sorry I'm "late", lol. I went to a cottage for a week. To give you an idea of how it was, first thing getting there I opened the door and tripped over the toilet. Lovely place.

Thanks to whoever nominated this (and my other one-shots) for the WSOTTA awards! I'm very flattered, especially since I'm totally not in the same league as the other nominees for the romance category.

And thanks to Fosterchild for getting me off my ass and into the game – AGAIN, lol. And keeping me from exploding this fic altogether.

P.S. Sorry, but no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to be the steady, once or twice a week updater. Go ahead and throw your tomatoes, lol.

xxx

Tim looked out the window, frowning, watching Dallas leave. He rubbed his head and leaned against the dirty glass. The second Dallas had left, he couldn't stop the thoughts about his gang. His head was already starting to ache.

He was torn between not giving a damn and feeling like his entire world had collapsed. So much of his time and energy and sweat and blood and _life_ had been put into his gang and he couldn't understand how it had suddenly become a chore to deal with it. Somehow, it wasn't the most important thing in the world to him anymore.

He sat down heavily on the bed and tried not to think about what that meant. Instead, he tried to piece together his racetrack plan. Normally, this was the part he was best at – and the part he enjoyed the most. Fitting everything together, smoothing out all the details, that final click when he knew everything was perfect – that was what he lived for.

The effort this time was smothering him. His mind kept wandering – he'd lean back against the bed and think he should wash the sheets. He'd get up to take a smoke, and realize that the lighter was Angela's, and where was she anyway, and what had she been up to, and how come he hadn't thought about that until now? Even when he managed to force himself to think about the plan, he was stuck on the fact that Dally was going to be riding. His mind seem to shut off and he kept going back to the same though over and over…

_Okay, first thing's first, Dally's the inside contact… Gotta talk to Buck, cause Dally'll need a horse to ride… Gotta drive Dally up to the city, cause he's riding…_

"I know," he said outloud, frustrated. "Dally's riding the goddamn horse. What about the rest of it?"

There was money in fixing the race. He knew it, he'd seen the outcome. He had the first step all thought out, and the result he wanted, but he couldn't find the link to anything in between. He was gonna show up, Dally was gonna ride, he'd go home and get the tar beaten out of him for doing absolutely nothing but driving some guy to a fucking horse race.

He should scrap the plan entirely. He'd never given a damn about it anyway, and it was just gonna make trouble. He'd get in shit for doing nothing – he'd never had a plan that disintegrated like that before. But, he'd get in more shit if he saw it through and wasted even more time.

He rubbed a hand across his face and suddenly thought he should shave. It'd been awhile since he's last shaved hadn't it? A couple days, maybe, or three…

What would be great, he thought viciously, would be if he could get his head outta the fucking clouds and actually pull this shit together. All he had to do was figure this plan out, get the gang off his back about Dally, and then, and then…

And then what? he thought suddenly, and realized he'd been fooling himself, that he was stupider than he'd thought. His life didn't end in August. He'd still be here, in Tulsa, living at home and running a gang, and Dally would be right there with him. A month from now, a year from now, the best change that could happen would be nothing. He'd be sitting here wondering about the next plan, and then the _next_ plan, trying to keep Dallas from talking and trying to keep everyone else from guessing and trying to keep them both alive.

Tim stared at the ceiling, running his eyes along the crack in the right corner and the spider web in the left – God, he hated spiders. He listened to the tick of his alarm clock from where he still couldn't find it, counting down the seconds like a bomb attached to his life, only he couldn't see the timer. He felt sad and sorry for himself, and then because he couldn't stand to do that, he decided something had to be done. Nothing else was going to change, so he'd change, and he'd live with it this time, no matter how miserable it made him. He thought about Dallas.

xxx

"So, you saw Tim last night."

Direct and to the point – it's what he always liked about Steve. Anyone else would have beat around the bush, slipped in the question casually, trying to trick him into thinking it was no big deal. Not Steve.

Dally shrugged. "Yeah, I saw him." For a second he forgot that Steve wasn't supposed to know the details. Remembering was like an electric shock. His heart skipped a beat and he thanked God he hadn't said anything stupid yet.

Soda lifted his head up from where he was tinkering with a car and watched Dally carefully.

Steve's gaze was anything but careful. "You better watch it, Dally. There's kids already running around calling you names and you're helping them right along."

Dally spit out his cigarette and balled his hands into fists. "What the fuck are you saying Steve."

"Hey, cool it," Soda called, wiping his hands on a rag.

"I'm saying, you're acting like the rumours are true, running around with Tim," Steve said angrily. "You're being an idiot."

Soda dropped the rag and ran over worriedly. He stopped short when he realized Dally hadn't thrown a punch.

"I ain't gonna stop doing what I want just cuz of what some jerk think," Dally said through clenched teeth, trying to gain control of himself. "I'll do what I wanna do."

"You being that stubborn shows you're an even bigger idiot," Steve shot back.

"You're one to talk about stubborn," Dally said. "Can't you just let me deal with my own shit?"

"You ain't dealing!" Steve yelled. "I ain't gonna lay my ass on the line for you Dally, if Shepard's gang comes round here calling for your blood. I ain't putting myself through that kinda trouble just cause you're acting like a queer-"

He saw a blinding rage and when he came to he was grappling with Steve. There was blood in the corner of Steve's mouth, and Dally's eye throbbed. Soda was hollering something, but he couldn't tell what.

They went down, Dally on top. He punched Steve once, twice, hard and satisfying. He was hit once in return and then he felt himself be dragged upright by the arms. Dally let himself stumble up in Soda's grasp. He'd said what he wanted to.

It surprised the hell out of him when Steve leapt up from the cement and punched him again. One, two, three… Dally's blocks missed all of them. His vision went blurry and he swung wildly, trying to keep Steve at bay until he could see. His breath left him suddenly and a sharp, swift pain in his abdomen followed close. He grabbed at Steve's knee and in that second a fist made it past his arms and connected solidly with his jaw. Dally's head snapped back sharply and he felt his muscles go slack. He tripped to his knees, put his hands out to catch himself as his vision darkened. He could hear voices mumbling behind him as if he was underwater. Time slowed. He felt mildly surprised that things had gone so badly. It was all over a name, just a stupid word…

The world spun upside down and he found himself on his hands and knees on the cement. Time sped back up. He could see the tiny stones on the ground and could feel them biting into his palms. He could hear Soda's voice behind him, telling Steve he'd gone too far and Steve saying, "I know, I know." His lip felt cool where he knew there was blood.

He heaved himself to his feet, and felt dizzy for only a second. It hadn't been a very bad fight, but it hadn't been expected either.

He stared at Steve until Steve looked back.

"Look, I shouldn't of got that rough, but you punched me first," Steve growled.

Dally nodded tiredly. It was the truth.

Soda was sitting on the cement staring at his hands. Dally looked at him, Steve looked at him, both of them expecting him to say something and break the tension. But, he didn't say anything.

Steve cleared his throat. "I guess Shepard's fighting skills have rubbed off on you," he said, trying to joke. "Or maybe he stole all a yours, cheatin' hood."

Dally shrugged, then winced as something in his shoulder pulled.

Steve took a breath, looked at Soda again, and then looked away, uncomfortable. "Look, I didn't mean to call you anything. I know you're not – well, that. That guy just got to me, his girl don't get along with Evie and he was saying some mighty harsh things."

Dally nodded again and tried to think of something to say.

"And then you went off with Shepard and I guess I thought – just for a second. But, I don't anymore," Steve said quickly.

"Sure," Dally said. He felt numb.

Steve gave Soda one last look and then sighed. "No hard feelings?"

Dally shook his hand. His shoulders pulled, his whole face was throbbing and he felt nauseous from the knee to the gut he'd taken. He told the cement floor that he was gonna go see what Johnny was up to and then took a couple of steps away. He watched Steve pause for a second before following the still-silent Soda back into the station.

And you're my friend, he thought, realizing what that meant with a sick feeling.

xxx

Dally walked back to Tim's tasting blood and fear and anger. He was too blinded by his thoughts to see anything and got up to the door before he noticed Tim was behind him.

"Wha-"

Tim grabbed his arm and jerked him towards his car. "Get in."

"Where we goin'?"

"Get in the car, Dallas!"

Something in Tim's voice gave him pause. "What's going on Tim?"

Tim had a glassy look to his eyes that meant he'd been drinking. "We're gettin' outta here, Dally, I mean now. Get in the car."

Dally stared at him and backed up slowly, realization dawning on him. "You're running scared."

Tim wiped his face on his arm and said nothing.

Dally shook his head, not taking his eyes off Tim. "No way, Tim, no way. Shit. You don't run away. What the hell's the matter with you? Look, whatever this is about, we can take it-"

"Just get in the _fucking_ car, Dallas."

If there was a way of screaming quietly, he should have known Tim could managed it. He should have walked away, should have told Tim he wasn't no pussy and he'd never thought Tim was one either before now. He slid into the passenger seat.

He watched quietly as Tim started the car, and noticed that the tank was full. Tim took the roads at an easy pace, fast but controlled like always. He didn't say a word, and neither did Dally until they were out of Tulsa, riding the 412 west. He didn't want to ask where they were going – he had a feeling he knew the answer as well as Tim did, and he didn't know a thing. In any case, Tim would talk if he wanted to – asking wasn't going to get him anything.

He let Tim have his silence for as long as he could take it, but the minutes kept ticking and the miles kept flying by and he just couldn't sit still and shut up anymore. The silence was suffocating. He needed to say something just to breathe again.

"We're almost to Stillwater," he said quietly. They'd been driving an hour.

Tim licked his lips and said nothing.

Dally sighed, exasperated, and watched the scenery go by. He could see in his reflection that the blood had dried on his lip, and bruises were forming around his eye and his cheek. He closed his eyes, leaned against the window and resolved not to say anything more to about the drive. Tim was running scared and he was running with him.

Bored, restless and confused, it took Dally another five minutes of highway driving to fall asleep.

xxx

Tim swallowed and kept his eyes away from Dallas as they passed the university town. After a minute, he heard the blond's breathing slow and was glad he was asleep. He wiped his face on his sleeve again.

"Shit," he whispered.

He drove for twenty minutes more and then swung around on the 35 and headed south towards Oklahoma City. He'd never been very good at running, anyway.

xxx

A/N: I love Google maps. You can actually see the university, lol. Thanks to mars for inspiring my attempt at realism, lol.


	41. Chapter 41

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 41

A/N: I'm almost done. All comments, criticisms, etc. appreciated.

P.S. When was the last time I put down a disclaimer? S.E. Hinton owns, and pwnz all. I make no money from this.

xxx

Dally woke up feeling groggy, long after the sun had set. They'd stopped driving. He figured it was the first stop, and they had been driving a couple of hours. He sat up, rubbed his eyes and looked around. It was black, pitch black, no city lights at all and that made him uneasy. He thought there might be trees but he couldn't tell for sure. Tim wasn't in the car, but he'd left the driver's side window open for air, since Dally'd been sleeping on the passenger's window. A breeze trickled in, moving the heavy air around the car. He could hear the gentle sound of waves.

He strained his eyes to see in the dark and almost had a heart attack when a figure came stalking towards him out of the black. Tim opened the passenger door and leaned against the frame, smoking, saying nothing. Dally breathed in the scent of smoke and wished for a cigarette.

"Where?" he asked raspily.

Tim looked over. "Lake Arcadia."

Dally struggled to remember where that was.

"We in Texas?"

Tim laughed. "Nope. Just outside of Oklahoma City."

"Oklahoma City?" Dally smiled, relieved. "Didn't get very far didja?"

Tim shrugged. "Like you said, you just don't run away. That ain't no way to deal with things. I got business here at the end of next month."

"Yeah? That why you ask me about horse racing? The state fair's at the end of next month too…" Dally trailed off, putting two and two together. "I'm part of your business," he accused Tim.

"Yep."

Dally was taken aback by Tim's quickness to own up to it. "Well, fuck, were you ever gonna tell me?"

"Nope. If you were dumb enough not to figure it out, you didn't deserve to know."

Dally swore. "Jesus. You really think you just own everyone, huh?"

Tim smoked in silence for a minute, watching him. Dally glowered at his arm, hating that he couldn't meet Tim's gaze. He wished again for the cigarette.

"I hate when you do that," he said suddenly.

"What?" Tim said quietly.

"Look at me like that."

Tim ground out his cigarette. "Like what."

"Like you're figuring out everything about me just from looking. You'd get it wrong, too," he said, looking up at Tim angrily. "You always do."

Tim lit another cigarette and took a drag. "You talk too much. Come outta the car. It's cooler down by the lake."

He followed Tim a ways from the car and took a detour into the grass to relieve himself. He moseyed back and found Tim sitting on the grass at the edge of the lake, watching the waves. He sat down beside Tim and concentrated on saying nothing. Tim was right. The more he talked, the more ammunition it gave Tim against him, and he wasn't aiming to lose the next fight because he was running his mouth.

He fumed for awhile, aware that Tim's gaze was on him, but after a couple of minutes Tim handed him the cigarette and Dally forgot why he was mad. He shuffled closer to Tim and finished the smoke. He looked out at the empty darkness and listened to Tim's silence. He couldn't help feeling uneasy when Tim reached for him.

Tim pulled him close, in between his legs, and hugged him so tightly across the chest Dally found it hard to breathe. He kissed the back of his head gently.

"Hey."

"Hey," Dally gasped and tugged on Tim's arms, but he had an iron grip.

"You look nice tonight."

Dally's stomach turned over.

"What a thing to say at a time like this," he muttered.

Tim laughed. "Time like this? This is the best time of our lives, Dally."

Dally sucked in a breath. Tim had lost it. He'd clearly gone over the deep end.

And I thought I'd be the first to go, Dally thought dizzily. He pulled again at Tim's arms.

Tim clutched at him tighter. "I just didn't know what to do, alright? I needed…space."

Dally felt lost. He'd never heard Tim say anything like this before and he didn't want to hear it now. Tim didn't lose it like that. Tim always knew what to do. Didn't he?

As if answering his question, Tim mumbled against the back of his neck. "I got it all figured out now. It's not that hard even, I just needed a clear view. You know?"

"Uh," Dally gasped. "No."

Tim exhaled and Dally could feel his breath. It felt uncomfortably hot against him. "I know what I gotta do. What _we_ gotta do."

"I swear to God, Shepard, if you're thinking murder-suicide…" Dally struggled for breath and Tim suddenly let go of him.

"What you fighting for? You scared of me?"

Dally stood up and looked down at Tim, lying on the grass in the dark. He was draped over the ground like he was king of it, and for all that he looked relaxed, Dally knew it'd take him a split second to shift into an attack. His eyes glittered dangerously, and a hint of a smile played across his lips.

Dally licked his own, which had gone suspiciously dry. "I ain't scared of you." He could hear the water lapping at the rocks behind him. He couldn't swim.

Tim smiled slowly. "Sure look it. Tell me, Dally…ain't you tired of all this? You don't think it sounds a little nice…the sweet, sweet release of death."

"No!" Dally backed up as Tim stood up.

"Come on, Dally," he whispered dramatically. "Join me."

"You're fucking crazy," Dally shouted, and Tim suddenly burst out laughing.

It took Dally several seconds to realize it wasn't the maniacal laughter of a murderous psychopath – just the regular giggles of a greasy ass.

"You fucking asshole," he yelled and shoved Tim. Tim tumbled onto the grass, howling with laughter.

"I can't believe you fucking thought… You looked so fucking scared!" Tim laughed.

Dally felt his face get hot. He wanted to kick the shit out of Tim, but he was still nervous from his creepily perfect murderer impression.

"This ain't a movie," Tim said, calming down. "I was just playing around. Dallas?"

Dally kicked at the grass and sat down.

Tim sighed. "You mad?"

Dally stayed silent, furious with Tim for making him look like an idiot. Tim crawled over and put a hand on his shoulder, and Dally couldn't help flinching.

"Christ," Tim said, surprised. "You really thought I was serious."

Dally shrugged. "You're pretty natural at looking crazy," he said snarkily.

"Dally," Tim said, patiently. "Why in the hell would I suggest killin' ourselves to try and get out of being killed?"

Dally swallowed, wishing he didn't know what Tim meant.

Tim flopped back down on the grass. "I got a plan figured out. All you gotta do is keep your mouth shut and ride."

In spite of himself, Dally snorted. "Ride…"

"The _horses_, Dallas. Shut up."

Dally could hear the smile in Tim's voice and was glad for it. He looked at Tim curiously, sprawled on his back, his eyes half-closed. "I ain't seen you so relaxed in ages."

"And, I ain't seen you so tense," Tim propped himself up on one elbow and gave Dally an incredulous look. "Dally, ain't it occurred to you that we're the only ones here? In the dark? No lights, no houses, no cars…no one else."

Dally shivered. "Yeah, it occurred to me."

Tim sighed. "No, I mean, ain't it occurred to you in a _good_ way?"

Dally frowned. "Well, I guess, if I wanted to kill _you-_"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Dallas," Tim said irritably. "I mean, we can fucking do it outside and not worry about no one seeing."

"Oh."

Tim rolled his eyes. "Yeah, 'oh'."

Dally shrugged and glared at the grass. "I ain't in the mood anyway," he said coldly.

"Yeah, well, me neither."

They spent a minute in silence, listening to the wind in the trees.

"It _is_ cold though," Dally said quietly.

Tim looked over and watched the sweat drip down Dally's arms. "You're _cold_?"

"That's what I just said, ain't it?" Dally said irritably.

Tim chuckled. "Well, hell, don't get so snappy. I was about to offer you a cure."

xxx

He spent the night alternating between being woken up by Dallas and being woken up by nature. He'd spent so much time in the city falling asleep to sirens and loud music and drunken fights. Tim had never realized how fucking _loud_ nature was.

A breeze would creep by and manage to make the tall grass hiss like a rattlesnake while leaving his sweat-soaked body untouched. Frog croaks echoed from across the lake, accompanied by the steady fwap, fwap of the waves, and some idiotic bird or wolf or something kept howling and shrieking like it were crazy. He woke once in a sweat, sure that a bear was scratching at the car, but it was only a racoon. When morning broke, cool and misty (and full of birdcalls and cicadas), he couldn't have been more relieved.

Aside from squirming in his sleep, Dallas had slept through the night easily. He'd somehow managed to steal Tim's leather jacket from where he'd draped it across his knees, and had wrapped it around himself like a cocoon.

Tim couldn't help smiling. Six hundred degrees outside and Dallas couldn't sleep without his fucking blanket.

He stood up, stretching, his body aching from a night on the hard ground. Dally had been the one to insist they sleep outside, and with the temperatures the way they were, Tim was glad he had. Tim looked at the lake and decided it was clean enough to wash in. It had cooled down enough from the morning mist to make a dip in the lake seem like overkill, but he could wash his face at least.

He managed to find an old coffee cup in the car to wash with, and by the time he got back, Dallas was awake, rubbing his eyes and disentangling himself from Tim's jacket.

"Mornin'," Tim greeted, and almost dropped the cup when Dally looked at him. He had a black eye, a large purplish-yellowish bruise forming on one side of his face and dried blood on his lip.

Dally rolled his eyes. "Do I have something on my face?"

"Jesus Christ, what the hell happened to you?"

"Nothing," he replied. He stood up easily, rolling his shoulders, and headed towards the lake.

Tim followed, feeling the burning anger spread through him like a brushfire. He crouched down next to Dallas and watched intently as the blond cupped water in his palms splashed his face. "Who did it? It was that Pinter fucker, wasn't it?"

Dally washed his face impassively, though it must have hurt, and said nothing.

Tim swore and dipped the cup into the lake. He pulled off his shirt and let the water trickle down over his head before scrubbing his face violently.

"If 'Pinter' is the ass with the hooknose from your gang, it wasn't him," Dally said mildly.

Tim swiped the water from his eyes and glared at Dallas. "You lying?"

Dally shook his head and passed his hand over the dried blood on his lip. "Nah. If he'd gotten a hold of me he'd have brought friends." He gave a twisted smile. "I doubt I'd look this pretty, then."

Tim let out his breath slowly. "Then who-"

Dally ignored him again. Tim sighed, taking the hint. Dally could handle it. He watched Dally scrub his lip, and the blond winced slightly.

"You know, I reckon you're right. This shit could get us killed."

Tim looked at Dally, feeling the anger slid slowly back under his thumb. He felt a vague sense of sick satisfaction that Dally had finally understood him. He watched the blond pick at his lip and wet the edge of his shirt in the water.

He leaned over and dabbed the cloth gently against Dally's lip but Dallas knocked it away and rubbed his mouth roughly. He swallowed hard.

"Tim…"

Tim stared across the water feeling like he was being burned from the inside out. "You talk more about getting killed and I'll do you in myself," he said swiftly. He stood up and brushed himself off. "It ain't gonna happen Dallas. Just do like I said and keep your mouth shut." He gave Dally as gentle a smile as he could manage and held out a hand. "Come on, I got business to check out. You can drive."

xxx

A/N: Hee. Did any of you think Tim was serious? He had me fooled for awhile.


	42. Chapter 42

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 42

A/N: I'M DONE! I've scribbled for days and managed to finish this fic. I can now let it out slowly and evilly, like a silent fart. Mwahahaha. There is another fic to be written by yours truly. – serious face – Time to commence with the dreaded beta search. This is what I've been worried about ever since I heard about the existence of these guys, lol. Just a matter of figuring out who to bother first. Be afraid. All of you.

P.S. I hate everything to do with this stupid horse racing plan. It sucks. I'm sorry, but I can't make it any better, lol. I'm crime-stupid, and lazy about research (I almost made Dally a barrel racer, lol). Luckily, Dally's got his head in the sand – I'm going to follow him, lol.

P.P.S. I've re-read this chapter and it's really obviously inspired by the fic I'm obsessively reading these days. I've read it through carefully, but if anyone sees anything fishy, please let me know, cuz my intention is so NOT to rip that writer off. I doubt she's reading this, but here's a shameless ass-kissing plug for her story anyway, cuz it's effing awesome – go read marsonfire's "Triangle"! It's full of Tim-ness (love!). And Dally.

P.P.P.S. The asterisked thing is a tribute to Katt Williams.

P.P.P.P.S. Do I talk too much? Lol. YES.

xxx

It was dusty and hot and Tim obviously didn't know where they were going.

Dally had driven the short distance into town and Tim has since confiscated the keys. They grabbed a lunch at a tiny, grubby diner and were back on their way, Tim at the wheel. Since then, they'd been driving around Oklahoma for the better part of two hours. Tim swore he knew where they were going but Dally knew better.

"You can get anywhere in Oklahoma City in under an hour," he'd grumbled, but it got him nowhere. Tim wouldn't even tell him where they were going.

Around three, they had to stop for gas and Dally subtly hinted that he was fed up by stealing a map and leaving it on Tim's seat. Tim had spread the map out over the hood of the car and spent twenty minutes fending off Dally before sending him to wait inside. He almost melted, waiting for Tim in the stifling heat of the car, but at least by the time Tim came back, he knew they were heading in the right direction.

By the time they'd got to the fairgrounds Dally was parched and bored and grumpy. They parked a little ways off from the racetrack and he felt his temper rise. Tim thought he was just going to go along with his little plan…

Tim got out, careful not to look in his direction, and started across the street to the track. Dally frowned. It was hot and there was nothing to do around him – he'd be damned if he was going to let Tim abandon him here on the side of the road.

There were signs everywhere, but nothing had been set up yet. The fair took place at the end of August – there was still a good chunk of time before the grounds needed to be ready. A construction crew was working in the stands – on what, Dally couldn't tell and didn't much care. The ring, the gates, the stables – all were empty. He squinted and checked again thoroughly. No horses. He sighed, his boredom taking over completely, and plodded after Tim. Tim cast him a quick glance, and tried to hide his smile. Dally straightened with an effort, not wanting to seem like a sulking child. He pretended to scan the track with interest, but it looked the same to him as every other that he'd seen.

He followed Tim around the track to a small, low office building where a lone horse trailer stood parked. A man halloed them, and Tim ambled over to shake his hand. Dally had no doubt that Tim knew nothing about who he was talking to or what took place in the office, but he didn't show it. It puzzled him how much effort Tim put into pretending sometimes. He'd much rather ignore it and deal with what he liked.

He left Tim talking to the man and walked around the trailer. It was empty. He ran his hands along the sleek sides and took a deep breath. It hadn't been used before, that was obvious. He peered through the slats and tried to see if it was stocked.

"You the rider?"

He turned away from the trailer to find the man squinting at him. He looked quickly at Tim.

"This is Dally," Tim said. "Just talking about signing you on for the quarter horse event."

Dally suppressed a laugh. He'd bet any amount of money Tim had no idea what a quarter horse was.

"Knew you was the rider soon as you took off for the trailer," the man said, rubbing his fingers through his moustache. "All them rodeo boys is so horse-crazy, couldn't stand to miss a chance to see a pony."

"Dally's as crazy as they come," Tim agreed.

Dally shot Tim a dirty look. "You know, I ain't too sure about riding this summer…"

Tim frowned.

The man chuckled. "No kidding. You look a little young for this sport, anyway. The fair might be too much for you."

Dally's jaw tightened. He glanced at Tim and scowled. "Fine. I'll ride," he snapped.

The man hitched up his belt and gave Dally an appraising look. "You sure about that boy? Like I said, you look awful young, and this here's a professional event."

Dally nodded, glancing back at the trailer. "Learned to ride pretty early. A man I stayed with in this city used to do some work for a ranch," he said absently. The trailer was pretty nice looking.

"That right?" Tim said. Dally looked at him, surprised that Tim would own up to not knowing something – especially in front of a stranger.

A flicker of surprise crossed Tim's face before he got control of it. He shrugged. "Just thought you learned to ride in Tulsa."

The man turned his gaze back to Tim. "You boys from Tulsa?"

Tim took a breath. "Maybe."

Dally couldn't help rolling his eyes.

He tired quickly of Tim's bullshitting and "business talk" with the man and started back towards the car to wait.

He stalked across the street without looking, almost getting himself killed in the process. He swore and flipped off the driver. Dally stared morosely across the empty parking lot and almost moaned he was so bored. He pulled out his cigarettes and was about to light up when something caught his eye. A boy his age was sitting on the edge of the parking lot, watching him intently. Dally lit a smoke keeping his eyes on him. The boy sat still for a few seconds longer before hopping up and hurrying towards Dallas. Dally frowned as he came closer – he was so skinny he looked young, but his face was lined and worn. He looked to be in his late twenties.

The man shuffled close to him. Even in the heat he was wearing a long sleeved shirt. He gave Dally a look.

"You want some?" he asked in a low voice.

Dally frowned. "Hmm?"

"You want some?" the man repeated.

Dally looked at him, trying to figure out what the man was asking him.

"We don't want no speed, now get the fuck outta here," Tim said irritably, coming up behind him. "Goddamn dealers. Worse than fucking roaches."

The skinny man gave Tim an appraising look. "You sure, man? The shit I got here… This shit I got right here…" He patted his pockets. "This shit I got here, man, you won't believe the shit I got."

"Don't want any. Get lost!" Tim said angrily, opening the car door. "Get in, Dallas."

Dally hopped in the car, smirking as the dealer followed Tim around to his side. "I getcha, I getcha, you like only the good stuff. You want this…it'd make even you run laps 'round this track, like, no problem. Fast as the fuckin' wind. Hi-yo, Silver, man."

Tim froze. He glanced back towards the racetrack and then studied the jittery man in front of him carefully. "That right," he said evenly.

"Yeah, man."

Dally watched Tim curiously. He'd known him for long enough to know that Tim wasn't about to start using just because he was offered some good stuff. He could see from the intense look in Tim's eyes that Tim had a plan going.

Before he could figure out what it was, Tim had turned the car on and pulled out of the parking lot, narrowly missing the dealer.

xxx

Tim didn't want to go home. He felt comfortable and relaxed and like he'd somehow just dodged a bullet by driving out to Oklahoma City. He drove aimlessly, letting the wind cool him down. It only took an hour and a half or so to drive to Tulsa, and after an hour of random driving, Tim was surprised that Dally hadn't noticed that they were still far from home. Dally was slumped in the passenger seat with his eyes closed, but he was definitely awake. Tim could feel it. He'd been much too accommodating on the trip – following Tim around, not saying much, not swearing much. He figured it had to do with whoever knocked him around.

He shot another look at Dally and felt the anger creep back on. He shook it off and concentrated on driving. For all he knew, Dally had had it coming. Or, it could have been his old man – there wasn't anything Tim could do about that, and it certainly wasn't any of his business. He rubbed his eyes and tried to rid himself of the feeling of protectiveness. Dally could take care of himself.

"Hey." Dally was looking around him. "We're stopping soon."

Tim shook his head.

"I ain't asking."

Tim sighed. "Look, I ain't running away from Tulsa, but I ain't aiming to run towards it either."

"I get that."

"It's nice here, ain't it? No one knows us. It's nice to relax for a change…" Tim trailed off. It certainly sounded like he was running from his life.

"Yeah." Dally squirmed in his seat. "But-"

"Alright," Tim said, tiredly. "We'll head back to Tulsa…tomorrow, alright? I just want one day where I don't have to worry about any of this."

"Fine. Tim-"

"So, we ain't stopping yet. Okay?"

"No."

Tim glanced at Dally. The blond was visibly uncomfortable. "Look, Tim, I know all that."

"Dally, come on. It's not like you was having the greatest time in Tulsa, either," Tim interrupted.

"Fuck, Tim."

He sighed and rubbed the steering wheel. Dally was starting to sound like him with his two-word sentences. "You wanna stop driving."

"Yeah."

"Can I ask why?"

"Yeah, I gotta take a leak."

Tim bit his lip and pulled over. Dally was laughing at him. He looked at Dally as he got out of the car and the blond smirked at him. "Guess you're feeling guilty about running away, huh?"

Tim climbed out of the car and lit a cigarette as Dally hurried into the bushes. "You ran right with me, you know," he called.

He could hear Dally's constant swearing as he stumbled through the brush and back.

"I only ran cause you begged me to," he said when he got back, and pulled Tim's cigarette from his lips. He took a long drag and looked around at the empty stretch of road. "Course, there are benefits to this place." He leaned over and covered Tim's mouth with his own.

Tim re-scanned the area out of the corner of his eye – Dally couldn't be trusted to do a thorough job. Finding no one he pulled the blond to him. He could feel Dally's hesitation and it mirrored his own. They pulled away finally and Tim felt disappointed that they couldn't even relax enough in a place like this to enjoy it. They were leaning on a getaway, no one was around and no one would recognize them if they were around, anyway. He took Dally's hand in his own and rubbed his fingers gently over his palm.

Dally frowned, watching Tim's hand intertwine with his. He took a drag off the cigarette and flicked the butt away. He pulled his hand back. "Quit being such a sissy."

Tim smirked. "You liked it."

Dally leaned against the car and closed his eyes. "Yeah, but I wish I didn't."

Tim looked away, stung. He knew Dally's reasons and had felt them too, but it wasn't something he wanted to hear.

He could feel Dally's eyes on his back, and in a minute, heard him sigh.

"Oookay… Time to be happy, again, Tim."

Tim felt a stab of irritation. "Can't just turn it on and off like that, Dallas."

He turned back around to find Dally grinning slyly at him. "Sure you can." He swung an arm around Tim's neck and pointed along the horizon. Tim followed his finger and in a minute he had to smile. Far down the highway, the tiny rectangle of a motel sign gleamed in the afternoon sun.

xxx

They checked in to the motel, and fooled around a bit, but the lack of privacy made it hard to do much. It was a decent sized motel, with a fair amount of people and a couple of restaurants nearby, and they weren't the only ones checked in that afternoon. The walls were thin and every time someone passed by they could hear the voices clearly, could even hear the scrapping of shoes on the pavement. Dally would freeze, no matter what they were doing, his eyes going to the light curtain that covered their window, watching the shadows pass by too close for comfort. Tim watched Dally's face and wondered if he looked as tense. After a few such interruptions, he certainly _felt_ as tense.

They gave up around dinner-time and decided to go into town for food and entertainment. There wasn't much to do but drive, and by sundown they were back at the lake.

Tim watched the end of the twilight through half-closed eyes. Dally was napping, his head resting on Tim's legs and it was starting to hurt. He rubbed a hand roughly through Dally's hair and the blond woke up with a groan.

"What," he muttered.

"It's too hot to sleep."

It was too hot for much else, not that there was anything to do. He mentioned going for a walk, and Dally mentioned bears, so he brought the blond along as a noisemaker. They crunched through the brush, tripping over wood, getting scratched by branches and slapped by leaves, Dally swearing all the way. He'd tripped across a bush and managed to fall straight into a spider-web. He was tearing it from him and swearing off all further nature hikes when all of a sudden the foliage cleared and he stepped out into a night filled with ten million stars.

They were quiet for a minute. Tim stared, transfixed. He couldn't remember seeing stars like that, ever.

He shook himself out of it, embarrassed to realize he'd been mesmerized for the past ten minutes by a bunch of lights. He cast a furtive glance at Dallas; the blond was gaping, open-mouthed, head-cocked back. Tim felt better.

"Glory. Sure are a lot of 'em," Dally mumbled.

He looked over, somehow sensing Tim's gaze and grinned.

"Kinda like lookin' at a picture a your face when you was thirteen."

He tripped away trying to avoid Tim's arms, but Tim was faster. He got him pinned in a second.

"You little fucker," he murmured. "What the hell do I see in you anyway?"

"Nice hair."

"Oh, yeah."

It was a helluva lot easier to be relaxed in the dark but a choice-placed pinecone got in the way of any serious fun. Tease, he'd hissed, but Dally had only laughed and started back to the car. Tim beat him there.

xxx

A/N: Hahaha, that's all you get till next time. ;)


	43. Chapter 43

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 43

A/N: Be warned: It is sappy, oh, it is so sappy. It wasn't supposed to happen in this fic. Oh, well. Plus, I pull a writing no-no in this. I almost debated tossing this out when I wrote it. Luckily, it's a short chapter.

**Warning:** Chapter rated M for sex. Not so much hot, as amusing, though. Sadly.

xxx

"Mmmmgh."

"Shhh!"

"Can't."

"We're almost there…keep it in your pants willya?"

Smothered laughter.

"Run 'em over," Dally said irritably, watching the drunken couple stagger slowly across the street.

Tim looked at him, smiling. "Hmm. A little impatient, huh?"

"Don't make me hurt you," Dally growled. He reached over Tim and leaned on the horn, startling the young couple. "Move it," he yelled.

Tim laughed. He watched the couple scurry out of the way and let an arm settle across Dally's shoulders before accelerating slowly through the intersection. He caught the guy's eye and stared him down, daring him to even think it. The guy was too drunk however and gave him only a friendly wave.

"You don't have to rub everyone's noses in it," Dally grumbled, but he was smirking. He leaned back against Tim's arm and sighed. "Can't this car go no faster?"

Tim slowed it until he was drifting at twenty miles an hour down the highway. "Don't know what you're talking about," he said mildly.

Dally glared at him, but he could barely hide the smile. "Well, hell. I think you're in the wrong gear. Lemme help you out."

Tim groaned and slammed on the breaks. "That ain't the clutch, Dally."

"Are you sure?" Dally gave him a sarcastic smirk. "Oops."

Tim waited, breathing heavily, until Dally withdrew his hand. He stared at the blond, wondering if he shouldn't jump him right there.

A loud honk from behind him woke him up. He waved a "sorry" in the window and started moving again, swearing at Dallas.

Dally laughed. "You definitely got something on your mind, huh? Gettin' _hard_ to drive, there, Timmy?"

"Shut up," Tim growled.

"Hey, you can tell me. You look like you wanna talk – it's about to come right outta you."

"Shut _up_," Tim said.

"I don't mind. You're a real nice guy. A real upstanding citizen-"

"You're gonna get it, you keep talkin'," Tim said, trying not to smile. He glanced at the blond and Dally gave him what was obviously supposed to be a sexy look.

"Yeah? Am I gonna get it good? You gonna give it to me?"

Tim had to pull over, he laughed so hard. "You poor kid. How you manage to seduce anyone-"

"Well, I don't make them wait while they drive halfway across town at five miles an hour," Dally said sourly.

"Okay, okay," Tim sped back on to the highway, narrowly missing a slow moving car. He passed it quickly and sped up. "This better?" he yelled.

"It's fine," Dally said calmly. "You don't have to yell, the windows ain't open."

He put a hand on Tim's leg and rubbed it gently, inching upwards.

"Fuck, you gonna make me roll this thing, Dally."

"Well, then, drive faster."

He spotted the motel sign in the distance, and floored it.

xxx

The motel was closed up for the night but it sure didn't look it. A slew of rooms on the second floor had been rented to a couple of high school kids from the city and they had brought their friends. The party looked like it was just getting started as he pulled up and stepped out.

His eyes narrowed as he watched them trip out of their car, laughing and talking, and disappear into a room on the first floor. No doubt about it – that blond hair stood out like a spotlight.

He lit a smoke and made his way to the party, which was starting to look pretty good. He had no doubt that the party down below would be just as swinging.

xxx

Halfway through his third time having sex, the thought occurred to Dallas that he could move.

It was a whole different ball game now.

Tim had given up his pathetic attempts at pleasuring him, but his thrusting was starting to chafe Dally where it mattered. He didn't want to say anything; the look of concentration and exertion on Tim's face was almost frightening. If he just wiggled a bit...

He managed to squirm around to a spot that eased the pressure a little, but on Tim's next downstroke he hit a spot that made Dallas shriek.

"That hurt?" Tim grunted. Being the third time they'd fucked, he'd lost a little of his sensitivity towards Dally's complaints. Dally tried not to mind – he'd been there before. It was so damn hard to concentrate after all.

"Yeah," Dally gasped. He didn't know better.

Tim shrugged it off and kept going, but the same thing happened again. This time Dallas wasn't so sure it was pain.

He squirmed a little more and Tim groaned. "You can move as much as you want, you know. Won't hurt me none." In truth, it was having the opposite effect of hurting Tim. Dallas didn't know it - Tim sure as hell did - but their sex was coming to a rapid close.

The third time it happened Dally was sure it wasn't pain.

"Damn it, if it hurts so much then change positions, will ya," Tim snapped. It was so hard to be caring, so damn hard...

"It didn't hurt," Dally gasped, then yelped again. "What the hell IS that?"

Tim grinned slowly, realization dawning on him (and only him). "Hell, yeah. About time." He slipped a hand between them, and at the same time pushed his pelvis hard against the blond.

Dallas let out a noise he had no idea he was capable of making. "Wha-wha-wha..."

The sixth time it happened he came.

Dally had been getting off for a good three years of his life. He'd had damn good times, too, mostly having sex. There were times with Tim that were good enough to make his whole body tingle, explosive enough to merit a decent story.

This was something completely different. His vision narrowed almost to the point of disappearing. Blood pounded through his body so hard it felt like his heart had exploded. His head felt like it had caved in. His dick felt like it had blasted right off his body. He bucked so hard he almost threw Tim off the bed.

It lasted maybe twelve seconds, but it was undoubtedly the best twelve seconds of his life.

xxx

Tim gasped as Dallas tensed without warning. He buried his face in Dally's shoulder and let out a yell as he came. He could vaguely hear Dally yelping and whimpering his way through his own orgasm and could feel the younger boy's body rocking against his, but, as much as he liked Dallas, at that moment he really, really didn't care.

"Oh, shit, yessssss." It wasn't Tim's best time, but it was damn near close.

xxx

"Dally? Dallas? You okay?"

It was several seconds before he realized that Tim was talking to him, and had been for at least a few minutes.

"Wha?" he managed drowsily.

Tim chuckled. "You like that?"

"Oh, fuck, Tim, what did you do to me?"

Tim laughed again. It was good to have someone stroking his ego like that. "That was sex, Dallas. Come on, quit actin' like a virgin." He rubbed a hand over Dally's crotch.

Dally yelped and feebly pushed Tim's hands off him. "Don't touch. Not now."

Tim grinned. "Sensitive?"

"Don't touch. I'll kill you."

Tim sighed contentedly and let himself flop down on top of Dally. He slipped a hand under the blond's back and leaned his head against his shoulder. "Guess you're pretty sleepy, huh?"

"Mmm..."

A moment later, Tim rubbed a hand gently through Dally's hair. "You out?"

Dallas didn't answer.

"I got a secret for ya."

Silence.

Tim kissed him gently on the mouth. "You awake, you better tell me. I find out you're faking and I'll skin ya." He paused, then ran a finger lightly down Dally's ticklish side.

No response.

Tim leaned back down on Dally's shoulder, and pressed his mouth against his collarbone.

"Love ya, kid."

xxx

He was dozing in and out of sleep when he felt Dallas shake him awake.

"Tim, wake up!"

He was struck by the urgency in the blond's voice. "Hmph...Dally? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Wake up."

Tim opened his eyes. "What?"

"I wanna do it again."

xxx

A/N: Confused? Probably not, I ain't that enigmatic, lol. But, if you are, all will be explained…in time, lol.


	44. Chapter 44

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 44

A/N: This chapter's a little fragmented – this is still part of the section of the story that is hardest for me to write. You know…the bit between the words "Chapter 1" and "The End", lol.

**Warning:** Rated M for sex.

P.S. Fosterchild, I LIED. This chapter isn't even the last time. I completely forgot the events in my own fic. I dunno what the heck I was thinking, lol. I guess this is what happens when you write in advance, and don't edit, lol.

xxx

Dally was experimenting. He knew Tim wouldn't mind.

From one angle it sent ticklish shivers up and down his spine. From another it felt like Tim was trying to push right into his stomach. From yet another it made him really, really, really have to pee. He settled on an angle that made it a little difficult to breathe, but was pleasurable at a level he could handle.

"You like that?" Tim groaned.

"Yeaaaaaaah," Dally breathed and he meant it.

"I'm not going to last long," Tim panted. "Shit, I'm almost there..."

"I'll beat you to it."

"Race you."

"You're on...ahhha..."

Later, he slept the entire way home, with a smile on his face.

xxx

Tim drove home tiredly. He didn't want to bother Dallas, the kid looked so peaceful. And he needed time alone with his thoughts.

He wasn't at all sure he wanted to bring drugs into the plan, but he couldn't get the idea out of his head. He didn't know shit about horses, and the only fact he was sure of when it came to hard drugs was that he was not interested.

This plan just keeps getting better and better, he thought darkly.

It shocked him when he realized they'd arrived in Tulsa. He pulled up to the house, still unsure how he was going to handle the gang.

He parked and turned off the car, and Dallas woke with a start.

"We home?" he mumbled, groggily.

"Yeah." He swallowed and avoided the blond's gaze. "Look, I don't wanna kick you out or nothing. I'll see you tonight if you're here. But, I gotta go deal with my gang."

He waited for the fireworks but all he got was a tired sigh.

"Okay. I'll see you later." Dally opened the door and hopped out. He hesitated before closing the door. "Try not to get killed, alright?"

Tim smiled, with an effort. "Sure."

He watched Dally disappear around the corner and restarted the car. Time to head to Buck's.

He felt his headache come back with a vengeance.

xxx

Dally suppressed a yawn. He was exhausted – he couldn't imagine how Tim was able to think of business after driving all the way home. He pushed away the anxiety he felt that Tim was heading to see his gang. Tim could handle it.

He scratched his head, suddenly wondering if that were true. It wasn't likely that Tim would share if it wasn't.

He was overtaken by a yawn attack and decided that a coffee was a must if he was going to survive the rest of the day. He ambled around the corner in search of his favourite haunt.

"Well, well, well. Look who's back."

Dally almost turned right back around and left. But, the smell of coffee hung deliciously in the air of the diner. Sighing inwardly, he shuffled to the counter to greet the two old men.

"We almost thought you'd gone and died," Archie said.

"It ain't been that long," Dally murmured. He signalled the waitress for a coffee.

"I suppose we scared you off with our talk of sexual relations," Ernie chuckled.

"And for what purpose? You weren't planning on having sex," Archie said mildly.

Dally felt himself turn red. "Well-"

"Hah! I knew it!" Archie prodded him in the chest with one bony finger. "You didn't even last two weeks!"

Ernie raised an eyebrow. "Was it at least good?"

Dally said nothing but the blush he wore spoke volumes. His silence only made the two laugh harder.

"He did it right, I think," Dally ventured, trying to get them to stop laughing. It didn't work.

"Alright," Archie said, wiping a tear from his eye. "Good for you."

Dallas glanced around him quickly. No one seemed to be listening. "How come no one's buggin' us?"

"Service here _is_ unnaturally slow today," Archie said, searching for the waitress.

Dally shook his head. "I mean, how come you talk about this stuff here in public? Ain't you worried about what people are gonna think?"

Ernie frowned at him. "Just who are you worried about hearing us?"

Archie sighed. "We're old men, Dallas. There's only so long you can worry about people looking over your shoulder." He looked at Dallas suddenly, frowning. "Not that we're looking to publicize anything."

Dallas was taken aback by the glare they both gave him. "Naw, I ain't gonna tell…"

"We survived Korea," Ernie growled. "No Tulsa punks here are going to scare us."

Dally shook his head quickly. "Look, I ain't sayin' that. You know just as much about me."

"Damn straight. You're in this just as deep."

He hesitated before speaking again. "I was just thinkin'. If you ain't worried and walkin' around trying to keep quiet, and you're okay, then how come…?"

"We're not keeping silent, but we sure as hell aren't telling the whole world," Ernie said.

"We worked too long and hard for too many years to blow our cover now," Archie added.

"But, why? It ain't as if you two are subtle, sittin' here by yourselves all day," Dally argued. "You can't hide it anymore than…"

He trailed off at the look on the two men's faces.

"I think it's time we said our goodbyes," Ernie said carefully.

Dally leaned back against the counter, confused.

"Sorry kid," Ernie said gruffly. "But, it's a dangerous game you're playing. Talking with us is one thing – you keep your mouth shut to everyone else."

The two men stood up quickly and headed for the door. Archie glanced back at him regretfully. Dally didn't miss the pointed look Ernie gave his friend.

"Don't do anything stupid," Archie said, with a hint of a smile. "You're too young to be getting tired of secrets. Here's hoping you've got a good fifty years more of hiding who you are."

xxx

Dally was surprised to find the door locked at Tim's. He knocked on the door and immediately regretted it. He doubted Tim was home and any of the other residents of his house were probably not going to greet him warmly.

He heard some fumbling from inside and a second later the door was flung open.

"Oh, it's you," Angela mumbled and walked back inside, leaving the door open.

Dally entered cautiously and closed the door. "You been drinking?"

She held up a bottle and gave him a smirk. "Tim ain't the only Shepard who can get liquored up."

From somewhere in the house he heard yelling and a smash. Angela tensed.

"Looks like it's a talent the whole Shepard clan shares," Dally said mildly.

"Shut up," Angela hissed. "If it weren't for you, me or Tim wouldn't be drinking."

Dally leaned against the table. "Well, don't get yourself drunk on my account, Angel." He grinned roguishly. "Doubt them boys you hang out with need more of an advantage."

Her face clouded over, but a second later she was giving Dally a sweet smile. "Well, I'll just leave it for Tim, then, cause the way you smell now, I bet you sure could use the help getting him in bed." She took a sip and laughed.

Dally smirked – she was off her game if she thought that had hurt in the least. "You think I got trouble beddin' Tim? Ain't been the case so far. That brother of yours has sure got some needs."

She went red. "Shut up, queer."

Dally felt his temper rise. "You call your brother that?'

She pitched forward suddenly and he had to lunge to catch her before she hit the floor. "Christ." He hadn't realized how drunk she was.

"You musta tricked him," she muttered. "Used some faggot trick… Tim would never…"

"He's the one that started it," Dally said impatiently. "You wanna talk about tricks…"

She took a long drink from the bottle and he stopped talking. It wasn't so unusual to see a thirteen-year-old drink so easily, but this was Tim's sister. Tim wasn't one for heavy drinking and he'd never let Angela do it either. Or so it had been up until now.

With an effort he backed off. "You oughtta lay off the booze, Angel. Girls shouldn't drink like that."

She swore at him and he turned and headed up to Tim's room. Angela had more of a mouth on her than she was using. If he stayed with her much longer he'd end up doing something he regretted. Aside from angering Tim, he just didn't feel like punishing her when she was already hurting.


	45. Chapter 45

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 45

A/N: It's way too late in the game to introduce new characters. Excuse the anonymous banter.

This chapter is steeped in some abstract form of symbolism that may not make sense to anyone but me. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

**Warning**: Rated M for MORE SEX GODDAMN THESE HORNDOGS. Alas, it is not hotness this time. I blame the symbolism. –shakes fist at symbolism–

xxx

He was surrounded, and for once it didn't feel good.

Normally, having his gang grouped around him made him feel safe, like he had a whole army backing him. Even through his apprehension, he felt a stab of pride that his boys made up such a formidable group.

Tim looked up at the sky. It felt like that army was bearing down on him now. He took a long drag off his cigarette.

"So, you disappeared _again_."

There had been little said, but he got the picture. He drew a breath to steady himself. There was no way Pinter was going to take his gang from him.

"The only way this gang works," he said slowly, "is if y'all_ stick together_. The only way that works, is if there's someone runnin' things that keeps you together."

He took another drag and flicked the butt away. He didn't know what else to say.

Donny laughed grimly. "The way I see it, that ain't happening."

Tim looked at Donny, his eyes hard. He smiled a little, keeping his eyes mean and still. "Well, then something's gotta change, don't it?" he said coolly.

Donny balled his hands into fists. "Yeah, and I'm thinkin' it's you."

Tim paused. He hadn't been expecting so blunt an answer.

"Off doin' shit while we're workin'," Donny continued. "You got no clue what's going on in this gang, no more." His eyes glittered maliciously. "Hell, I bet you didn't even know I went up to Oklahoma City."

It was suddenly hard to breathe.

'You followed me,' Tim thought but caught himself before he said it. From the knowing look in Donny's eyes, he didn't need to.

"Got to thinkin', maybe you had a good plan goin', and I should be prepared. You told me you'd need a man up in Oklahoma City, so I went to scout it out." Donny smiled and it wasn't nice. "Saw some real interesting things there, Shepard."

Tim felt his head start to spin and he took a breath. There'd been nobody out there but that slow car. It had followed them all the way to the motel and he'd thought nothing of it at the time, would never have _ever_ thought it'd be someone from Tulsa. He'd been so wrapped up with other thoughts. He'd thought he had more time. He thought there were more games to play, more tricks to pull…

Well, if it were down to that. He shrugged out of his jacket.

Donny licked his lips nervously and took a step backwards.

"You got something to say, then say it," Tim said softly.

After a minute, Donny took a breath. "I already said it."

Tim felt his muscles relax and had to stop himself from gasping for air. He took in a slow breath.

"We're tired of waitin' on you, ain't that right?" Donny turned to the others and Tim did the same.

No one said a word.

Tim took another breath and it came easier this time. "That right," he said steadily.

There was some shuffling. "Yeah," said one voice. Tim smiled. One.

"Donny, you got a real fat mouth, you know that," Curly said suddenly. Tim looked at him. It wouldn't be terrible for Curly to speak.

Donny spread his hands. "Hey, it ain't just me. I'm speakin' for the gang here."

"You ain't speakin' for everyone. You ain't speakin' for me," Curly said angrily. He looked at the rest of the gang.

More shuffling, but no one spoke. Tim kept his breathing even, knowing the score before they told it to him. They weren't attacking but they sure as hell weren't backing him either. If Donny ever let out what he knew…

"Look, Shep, we ain't aimin' to pull a coop here. We just wanna know what's goin' on."

"If there _is_ anything goin' on."

"You better be doing something."

"Can't wait no more…"

Tim listened numbly to what they were saying. He already knew that. He had plenty of time so long as Donny said nothing. But, that couldn't be his plan. He needed his gang backing him again soon – so they would pound Donny into the ground when he let out Tim's secret, instead of him.

Someone laughed. "We're just getting bored here, Tim. You gotta find something for us to do. Some job to pull-"

"Some wiseass to jump," someone added and there was more laughter.

"Or, we'll find one ourselves," Donny said, cracking his knuckles.

"Yeah, and maybe I will too," Curly snapped.

Tim shook his head slightly and gave Curly a warning look. "Alright. I hear y'all." He thought a minute. "I've got a plan…"

xxx

It was past midnight when he finally stumbled home. He climbed the steep stairs on all fours and practically crawled into his room. He felt exhausted, as if his thoughts were giant weights he had been carrying around with him for weeks. He shut the door and locked it and turned to the bed where Dally was sleeping. He felt a wave of relief at seeing him there and didn't have the energy to block it out.

He fairly leapt into the bed and wrapped an arm around the blond tightly.

"Oof," Dally mumbled, waking up. "When did you get home?"

"Just now," Tim said. He pressed his mouth to Dally's hair.

"Way to wake a guy up," Dally said. He wriggled around until he had Tim wrapped tightly in both arms. "I was sleeping, asshole."

"Yeah, I know. In _my _bed. Why don't you get your own damn place, huh, and stop sponging offa me?" Tim slipped a hand underneath Dally's shirt and ran it up his back, feeling the smooth skin. He kissed his eyebrows, his bruised cheek, and rubbed a finger gently across the cut on his lip.

Dally groaned. "This ain't even your place. You're still living with Mommy and Daddy. Tough-guy Shepard – hah." He pulled Tim down into a soft kiss and then backed off, squinting up into his eyes. He pressed his lips gently against Tim's again and then buried his face in Tim's neck. "You're nothin' but a big pussy."

"If I was a big pussy, you wouldn't be pressed up against me, queer," Tim said and Dally's laugh vibrated across his skin. "And a stepdad ain't 'Daddy'. You can't remember a fucking thing can you? Idiot." He combed his hands through Dally's hair, feeling the boy's breath on his neck. Tim pulled Dally away, aiming to kiss him again.

Dally turned around before he had a chance and pulled Tim's bad hand from his hair. He inspected the bandage gently, his rough fingers grazing the skin on Tim's wrist. "You're the idiot, and you know it." He kissed Tim's wrist gently.

Tim felt his breathing quicken and pulled his hand away. "Fuck you, Winston."

"Yeah, fuck you, too."

Their mouths met quickly, kissing, slipping, messily drinking in each other's warmth. Dally's hands pressed against his chest, then slipped lower until Tim could feel his fingers scrambling along under the waistband of his jeans. Tim put a hand on the back of Dally's head pulling him in deeper and rocked against him. He felt Dally's fingers run around his waist and up his back, digging into his flesh, holding him tightly.

His heart pounded painfully in his chest and he pulled back, gasping for air. He heard Dally take in a ragged breath and went back again against his mouth an instant later. Dally put a hand against the small of Tim's back, guiding him over.

Tim rolled with him, his mouth never leaving Dally's, their teeth clashing, mouths bruising, catching the cut on Dally's lip and it opening on his tongue, digging in deeper, searching, searching for something…

Dally pulled away and rolled off him. "Lemme catch my breath, God, Tim…"

He rolled on top of Dallas and kissed him again, licked Dally's lips. Dally groaned and put a hand over Tim's mouth. "Wait," he said, breathing hard. "Fuck, you're like an animal."

Tim chuckled and prised Dally's hand on his mouth. "What's the problem."

Dally looked at him carefully. "What happened with your gang?"

Tim shrugged. "Nothing. Got 'em under control."

"You're upset. I can tell 'cause you're digging into me like you're starving and I'm a fuckin' steak."

Tim looked at him in surprise. Since when was Dallas so observant? "You been hanging around me too much," he murmured.

Dally propped himself up on one elbow, putting himself directly in front of Tim's nose. "What's the deal, Shep?"

Tim stared at him. His eyes were clear and almost colourless in the dark. He wanted to stare at them forever.

"Shep? What the fuck's going on?" Tiny wrinkles appeared in the corner of his eyes. He turned slightly and the thin light from the street coloured them blue again.

"Forget it, Winston," Tim said roughly. He smoothed Dally's hair with his good hand.

"Shepard."

"Dallas, please."

Dally looked at him in surprise. Tim rolled off onto his back beside Dallas and closed his eyes.

"I just can't talk about this no more, Dally."

"Okay," Dally said quietly. He pushed himself back from Tim until there was a space between them on the bed. "Whatever you want."

Tim breathed for a second, his skin cooling without Dally's warmth pressed against him. "I hate that it worries me," he said quietly, keeping his eyes closed tight. "When the hell did I get to the point where all I care about is what the other guys think…"

He felt the bed move as Dally turned on his side. "Fuck 'em. Do what you want."

He laughed. He was ready for it. "You think so?"

"Yeah."

He would have said something else, but Dally slung an arm around him and the words died on his lips. He kissed the top of Dally's head instead, and found there was no need for words after all.

After a minute, he took in a breath and changed the subject. "What you do today then?"

He felt the bed move again, his eyes still closed tight, and figured Dally had shrugged. "Nothing much. Came here early. Talked to Angela. She was pissed."

Tim nodded. "Angela's always mad about something."

He could feel Dally's hesitation. "Yeah."

He felt Dally's hand comb gently through his hair. He opened his eyes and Dally took his hand away quickly. The blond scowled. "Ain't your business what I done, anyway."

"Don't get mad."

"I'll get mad if I wanna," Dally growled, and sat up.

Tim almost smiled and closed his eyes deliberately. "Don't get mad," he repeated.

There was a second's pause and then Dally settled against him and kissed the side of his head. "Okay," he said.

Tim bit back a laugh and slipped an arm around Dallas. "So, what else didja do?"

Dally sighed. "Saw them old guys in that diner I took you to. Remember the ones that were..."

"Yep."

"Well, we had a nice chat."

The sarcasm in Dally's voice made him open his eyes again. "What did they say?"

Dally scooted back against the wall and sat up. "Too much, like always." He gazed at Tim for a second and something Tim couldn't place flickered across his eyes. He gave Tim a small smile.

"But, they said it gets easier from here on."

Tim smiled, surprised. "Good to hear." He looked at Dally and felt his temperature rise. Time for a little sweet talk. He took a breath.

"You know, butt fucking is illegal in Tulsa."

Dally was quiet for a minute. Then he scooted back towards Tim and pulled off his t-shirt. "Alright, let's do this."

xxx

In the middle of all the pushing and sweating and groaning, they happened for a second to look into each other's eyes. Tim's hands were gentle and Dally's rhythm was slowing.

"Dallas," he said, and was shocked that Dally didn't look away, didn't _run_ away.

Dally's breath was hot when he whispered. "Tim, I…"

Tim closed his eyes.

xxx

A/N: And they say women don't say what they mean.


	46. Chapter 46

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 46

A/N: I don't do dramatics very well. I'm a sucker for overdoing it. But, I'm sad. This fic is almost over. This is a uber long ass chapter though.

**Warning:** GUESS WHAT. Rated M for more sex. See, the fic is ending, so I gotta cram in as much as possible while I still have editing power. It's not even well-written and totally gratuitous, but I don't care! Lol, you'll see.

xxx

He woke up in the middle of sex.

Fuck, he thought, groggily. He can't even wait until I'm awake no more. He groaned and pulled Dally down on him harder. Dally moaned sleepily.

"Fuck…am I awake?"

Tim smiled. "Yep."

"Was dreaming. Thought I was at a rodeo. Bull ridin'."

Tim laughed.

"A real nice bull."

Tim opened his eyes and caught Dally's gaze. This time, Dally said nothing, and Tim didn't look away until it ended.

Eyes still locked Dallas slid sideways off Tim onto the bed.

"Wow," he whispered.

"Yeah," Tim said.

"What...what..."

"I think," Tim said slowly, exaggeratedly, "that was love-making."

Dally looked at him. Tim was deadpan.

"You sissy."

Tim cracked up. "Queer."

"Homo."

"Pansy."

Their laughter was like a second release.

xxx

He was hanging out at the Curtises', shooting the breeze with Two-Bit when Ponyboy wandered in with a large envelope.

"Dallas, you have a package," he said, puzzled.

Dally smirked. "Yeah I do." He patted his groin. Two-Bit snickered, but Ponyboy didn't catch on.

"Like, mail."

"Definitely male," Dallas agreed.

Ponyboy gave him a blank look. "Soooo," he said slowly. "Do you...waaant it?"

Dallas choked on his own spit and Two-Bit spat up a mouthful of beer.

"Wh-what?" Dallas managed. Two-Bit smothered his face in his hands.

"Do you want it," Ponyboy repeated, confused. "'Cause, you know, I'll give it to you if you want it."

Dallas was immediately down for the count. Two-Bit broke out into howling laughter beside him.

Ponyboy looked a little frightened.

"You-you-you..." Dally gave up trying to explain, doubling up in laughter, pounding his fist against the floor. Tears ran down Two-Bit's face as he joined Dallas on the ground.

When he managed to look up again, Ponyboy's retreating back was all he saw.

"Wait, Pony," he gasped. "I was just playin'."

"Package is on the floor," Ponyboy called and disappeared.

Dally shook his head, and sat up. "Poor kid," he murmured. "Shouldn't of scared him like that."

Two-Bit propped himself up on his elbows and stared at him incredulously. "What the fuck are you talking about? That ain't the Dallas I know." He squinted at him. "Come to think of it, you been in a mighty good mood since you come back from wherever you disappeared to three days ago. What the hell's going on?"

Dally shrugged. "Nothin."

Two-Bit cocked an eyebrow. "You're smiling."

Dally shook his head. "No, I ain't."

Two-Bit grinned at him. "Gettin' some hot love, are ya?"

Dally gave up the ghost and flopped against the floor, letting the smile spread fully across his face. "Yeah."

Two-Bit laughed. "Nice."

Dally wrinkled his nose in confusion. "Weren't you the one givin' me lectures before 'bout how I couldn't take this shit?" He propped himself up. "Guess you changed your mind huh?"

Two-Bit's smile was still on, but he was watching Dally carefully. "Can see now it would have done you no good."

"Damn right," Dally agreed. "Things couldn't be better, now."

Two-Bit sighed and stood up quickly. "Yeah. Well, I'm glad." He didn't sound it.

"Two-Bit…" Dally started, but the wise-cracker clomped past him without looking.

Dally closed his eyes and shook off the anger that popped up. Nothing was going to bother him today – not Ponyboy, not Two-Bit, not the ache in his ass. He allowed himself a short daydream, imagining Tim rushing into the room.

"Hey, idiot," he'd say. "Where ya been?" He'd settle down beside Dally and give him that half-smile like he was trying to hide his feelings, but his eyes would search out Dally's and give him away in an instant. And then he'd lean forward and grab Dallas and kiss him.

"Dally Winston," he murmured to himself. "When did you become such a fucking pansy, daydreaming about this crap." But, he couldn't help smiling again.

He was still thinking about Tim while he opened the large envelope Pony had thrown at him, and slipped out the short note.

xxx

Tim's nerves were buzzing and his whole body felt full of energy. He was nervous and scared and determined. He felt ridiculously happy.

He went around to the dollar store to pick up a pack of smokes, and it was such a lovely, drippy, grey day that he decided to go for a walk. He was humming to himself as he jogged back up the stairs to his house, a good hour later.

"Hiya, Curly," he greeted, slapping his brother on the back.

Curly choked and spit out the mouthful of water he'd taken in. Tim was startled to see it tinged pink with blood.

"What…" He trailed off as Curly turned and he got a good look at his brother's face.

Purplish bruises were forming around his eyes and his nose was swollen. The blood had come from a split lip. Tim's good mood evaporated.

"Who the hell did this to you," he said quietly.

Curly shrugged. "Don't matter. I gave as good as I got." He held up his hand, showing the scrapes across his knuckles.

Tim smiled, proud. "Good goin'," he said, gruffly.

Curly tried to grin back, but only managed a grimace. "Yeah. They look just as bad as me or worse."

Tim frowned. "_They_?"

Curly took in a sharp breath. "Just some guys," he mumbled. "Socs."

Liar, Tim thought. But, why wouldn't Curly tell him…

Tim felt cold as the realisation hit. "I'll kill him."

Curly's eyes narrowed. "No, don't. I went after Donny myself." He drew himself up. "It ain't right what he's tryin' to do to you, Tim, even if you are…"

Tim leaned against the refrigerator, feeling a stab of rage. He wasn't really sure at whom.

Curly swallowed and looked away. "I told him you're our leader and it ain't no one's business what you do on your own time. He didn't take to well to it, I guess."

"I guess the guys he was with didn't either," Tim said heavily.

Curly looked at him fiercely. "It don't matter, Tim. It ain't their business! It's yours and – and – Dally's, I guess."

Tim's breath stopped, and his stomach flipped hearing Curly say Dallas' name. He knew that Curly had known for a long while about Dally but hearing him say it outloud… He felt suddenly ashamed of himself, and as exposed as if Curly had seen him naked.

He felt mad all of a sudden at Dally, as if the blond had been the one hitting his brother. He swallowed and tried to shake off the feeling, but he couldn't.

"You're right it's my business," he said to Curly. "And you oughtta stay out of it, just like everyone else. Don't go jumping people for no damn reason."

Curly drew himself up tall. "I ain't gonna stand for what they're sayin', Tim. You're my brother, and that's the way it's gonna be. I don't care about the fuckin' bruises. I can take it, Tim, I don't care how many of them guys I gotta fight."

Tim closed his eyes, imagined Curly coming home every day looking the way he did now. Because of him. Tim felt sick.

He pushed himself off the refrigerator and left the kitchen quickly. He had to get out of there.

Tim hurried up the steps to his bedroom and flopped down on the bed. The sheets still smelled like Dallas and he breathed in deeply, wishing he were there.

"I already said it's your business and all. I can take it."

Tim groaned into the sheets, hearing Curly's voice from behind him. Leave me alone, he thought.

He could hear Curly shuffling around the entrance to his room, too nervous to come in. "But, Tim, you gotta talk to Angela. She's takin' this pretty hard."

Tim pushed himself up. "What?"

Curly stared determinedly at the floor. "I don't mind gettin' knocked around some, but Angela-"

"They ain't beating her up, too?" Tim said, horrified.

Curly frowned. "Naw. She's beatin' herself up plenty, already." He glanced at Tim quickly. "You gotta tell her this boozing shit ain't no good. She's only thirteen. She can't go around gettin' drunk all the time – in the daytime even. She's too pretty for that. There's guys that would treat her bad if they found her as drunk as she was last night. Tim, I saw her at Buck's-"

Tim didn't wait to hear the rest. He brushed past Curly and went straight for Angela's room.

He wasn't used to barging into her room, but he had bigger things to worry about than a little girlish mess. She was sleeping under a pile of blankets, her long hair strewn across the pillow.

"Get up," he said loudly.

She rolled over and gave him a bleary look. Tim drew a sharp breath looking at her. She was obviously hung-over, wearing what looked like last-night's clothes.

"I'm sick," she muttered. "Leave me alone."

"You been drinking," he barked. "Angela, that ain't no good. I hear that you been as drunk again as you were last night-"

"You didn't even notice," she said darkly, squirming out from under the covers. She sat on the edge of her bed and glared at him. "I heard Curly telling you. You were too worried about bedding Dallas." She rubbed her eyes and grimaced. "_He_ noticed, even."

Tim stared. "Dally knew you were drunk?"

"He came over early before I left. I thought he was you, or I wouldn't have let him in. Your boyfriend's an asshole, Tim," she sneered.

Tim tried to control his breathing. His anger with Dallas bloomed into fury at the blond, and at himself. He looked at his sister, her face pale and her hair hanging stringy alongside her face. He looked back at Curly, who could only shrug helplessly.

"I hope he's worth all this Tim."

"Yeah," Angela laughed. "I hope he sucks your dick real nice, Timmy."

Tim heard a roaring in his ears and felt the blood rush to his face. He felt a wave of almost painful embarrassment at her words. It wouldn't have felt worse if Angela had outright caught him sleeping with Dallas. He couldn't look at her.

"I ever hear you been drinking, or talkin' like that again, I'll be beating the habit out of you," Tim said, unsteadily. "You ain't got no reason for acting like this, Angela."

"My brother's a fag. Ain't that reason enough," she said, her voice tired.

"Shut up, Angela," Curly snapped.

Tim closed his eyes. He tried in vain to push back the humiliation back to a place where he could deal with it.

He swallowed. "Angela, it ain't got nothin' to do with you. What I do with Dallas…" The excuse fell flat. He felt sick with shame.

Angela leaned forward and put her head in her hands. "I'm gonna be sick…"

He gave Angela a long look and left the room. He looked around himself at the walls and the steps and the doors of the house that he'd lived in all his life and tried to shake off the feeling that he was in a prison. He walked steadily back to his own room and laid down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling like he'd done so many nights before.

That was that, then.

xxx

He couldn't remember falling asleep, but he couldn't have been consciously staring at the ceiling for so many hours. He looked across the room, where Dally had suddenly materialized. Dallas must have woken him up.

Dally closed the door and snapped the lock on. He turned to face Tim, and he was paler than usual.

"You awake?"

Tim sat up. "What's up?"

Dally swallowed and walked towards Tim, holding an opened envelope out to him. His hand shook slightly.

"I don't know how the hell he found out. I swear I didn't tell him."

Tim looked at the note briefly. _I know… You and Shepard… Queer…_

So Donny knew. That was old news.

Dally ran a hand through his hair, pacing back and forth across Tim's bedroom. "What now? What do we do?"

Tim shrugged and crumpled the note. "He followed us to Oklahoma City. That's how he knew."

Dally looked at him. "I don't give a fuck. What do we _do_, Tim?"

Tim shrugged again.

Dally turned around, swearing a blue streak. Tim watched him tire himself out, walking in circles around the tiny room. Dally caught his eye.

"It's out. It's all out. We're finished now, huh." Dally licked his lips.

Tim nodded slowly.

"Well, I shoulda seen it coming. Secret couldn't last forever." He took a breath. "If that's the way it's gonna be…" He gave Tim a tight smile. "Fine. We can take it."

Tim nodded again and said nothing.

"I'm thinking… I'm thinking…" Dally ran a hand nervously through his hair and licked his lips again. "This ain't gonna go away. I don't know how much more of this I can take, Tim."

He stopped pacing. "You said last night you weren't gonna let them guys boss you around no more. Well, me neither."

Tim smiled sadly. "Dally…"

Dallas crossed the room quickly and sat on the bed, staring intensely at Tim. "No more tricks. No more schemes. Let's just give it up, okay? We can do it."

"Stand up to the whole goddamn town?"

Dally swallowed. "I don't know. If it gets that bad we can up and leave. I ain't got nothin' keeping me here. Wherever you wanna go." He smiled again, the same tense smile that wasn't quite a smile.

Tim shook his head. "I can't leave here, Dallas."

"Angela and Curly can take care of themselves," Dally said shortly. "You're in more trouble-"

"I put _all of us_ in trouble." Tim cut him off. He looked at Dallas and his brow furrowed. "Even you."

Dally laughed. "This ain't your fault. Quit actin' like a saint." He leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on Tim's mouth. "We can take it."

Tim rubbed his eyes. His lips burned where Dally had touched him. "No, we can't." He stood up and walked quickly out the door.

Dally followed him down the stairs. "Well, we gotta take it, don't we? It's happening."

Tim crossed through the hallway to the kitchen and stopped, waiting for Dallas to catch up.

"You got a plan?"

"Yep," Tim said, and made for the kitchen.

Dally sighed, irritated. He didn't move. "You want to take off _now?_"

"I ain't takin' off. I'm staying right here. You can leave."

Dally blew his breath out, exasperated. "So, you're gonna handle this all yourself then?"

Tim reached forward and took hold of Dally's shirt front. He dragged him through the kitchen towards the door.

"You couldn't tell me what you're planning, just this once, huh?"

"You're smart," Tim said, gritting his teeth. "You oughtta be able to figure it out."

"Easier if you'd tell me, instead of dragging me wherever you want," Dally said, his voice rising angrily.

Tim sighed and let go of Dally's shirt. He opened his front door. "Well," he said.

"No," Dallas said, suddenly realizing what was happening.

"Get out."

"No, Tim. We gotta figure this out."

"Get the _fuck_ out of my house, Winston."

"Tim, come on," Dally swallowed nervously, running a hand through his hair. "We can figure it out, man. It's fine, I won't say nothing to no one, okay? Just tell me what to do."

Tim wrapped his fist in Dally's shirt, gritted his teeth and dragged the boy out the door.

"Just tell me what to do, Tim!" Dally's voice was too loud, too pleading. "You gotta have a plan. Just tell me..."

"I'm all outta plans, Dally." He gave Dallas a shove, but gentle, just to get him away from the house. Started to shut the door.

But, Dally was stronger than he looked, and stronger still when panicked. "Come on, Tim, let me back in. What's the plan, come on, you always have a plan."

Tim gave Dallas another shove and this time he meant it. The door shut easily.

"No! Tim, you always have a plan! Come on, let me in, Tim, please..."

He twisted the lock and yanked the curtain across the door's window, turned around and headed back up the stairs, determined not to see, determined not to hear.


	47. Chapter 47

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 47

A/N: Almost forgot I'd promised to post today, lol. I actually wrote most of the last three chapters of this fic either four or five years ago when I started this fic or a year ago when I started thinking of picking it up again. They've been massively edited, lol, but I ended up keeping most of it. They've been in a file called "Extras" for ages. I can't believe I'm using them, finally, lol.

P.S. Sorry for the fragmentation of time in this chapter.

P.P.S. There's a really subtle and confusing tie-in to my Tim one-shot, and any other mention of Tim hating his step-father in any fic, lol.

P.P.P.S. Thanks to whoever voted for this (and my other schtuffs) on the WSOTTAwards! None of it won, but I can't say I expected it to, from the competition, lol. Still happy to have been nominated. :)

xxx

Dallas stared at the Shepards' front door. He ran his fingers along the porch railing down to the cement on which he'd been sitting for the past four hours. He couldn't believe it but he was still here. His ass hurt from sitting.

It opened suddenly and he almost screamed with relief. He jumped to his feet but the relief was only momentary. Angela slipped out through the door, and he could hear it latch a second later. His throat tightened. He sat back down.

Angela glared at him in disbelief. "You're still here?"

Dally nodded, miserable. He was breaking all his rules. He was completely transparent...

"This is sick."

"I don't care," he whispered.

"You're pathetic," Angela said flatly.

"I don't care!" he shouted. "I don't care, I don't care..."

xxx

Angela watched his eyes glitter dangerously and was suddenly afraid of him.

"I love him..."

Only Dally could make love sound like hate.

"I'm going to kill that mother-fucker when he lets me in," Dallas said, deadly calm. One look at his face and she was sure he meant it.

Angela caught sight of her date pulling in to the curb, dropped her pride and ran for it.

xxx

He found himself at Buck's. He was tired and sore from sitting all day on the front step. It was obvious that sitting there wasn't going to be the way to get through to Tim. A beer and some food had sounded like a better plan.

He hadn't counted on Sylvia being there. She looked pretty, he had to admit, and just the fact that he'd noticed at all impressed him.

She knew something was up as soon as she saw him. He couldn't figure out how she knew him so well, already. She dropped into the chair beside him and took his hand and said nothing and was the only perfect thing in his life at that moment. He almost loved her for it.

He sat and drank and watched the people come and go. He bought Sylvia a drink whenever he sensed she might need one and kept silent.

People tripped into Buck's, laughing and already tipsy, ready to drink for real. He watched the couples and made bets with himself how long they would last. He looked carefully at each face that turned his way, trying to figure out how many of them had heard or seen or guessed about him and Tim. He looked at all the single guys and wondered.

He'd lost track of what time it was by the time the Shepard boys arrived. They ignored him for the most part, except for a few nods of respect from a couple he barely knew. He scanned them carefully but they moved through the room awfully fast. He didn't see Donny.

He set down his fifth, or his sixth (was it his seventh?) beer and was aiming at heading for the bathroom when Sylvia suddenly went rigid next to him.

"Dallas," she said, in a low voice.

He looked over at her. She was twisted forward and straining away from a pair of groping hands and a dark head. As if he'd suddenly poked his head out of the water, noise came crashing in, her scrambling and gasping, his lecherous laughter.

He stood up quickly and almost fell over backwards the room spun so fast. He managed to pitch forward instead and grabbed the arm Sylvia was vainly trying to shake off.

It took him a slow while to understand what he was seeing. He recognized the bright white teeth, the beetle black eyes. He recognized the leering voice.

"Hell, Winston. You ain't the right person to enjoy this pretty thing, anyway."

He recognized Donny and everything went red.

xxx

He hurt.

Tim took a swig of bourbon and hurt a little less. He sighed. It couldn't be helped. Dally would be okay. He'd be okay. Life would go on.

His heart pounded like a low drum.

"Hmm," he groaned and listened to a car pull up outside. He wondered if Dallas was still waiting on the step. He hoped he wasn't, the crazy… that idiot…

"Don't call him that, he ain't an idiot," Tim said angrily. Then he had to laugh. _He_ was the idiot – sitting in a dark room, drinking, talking to himself. He heard the sound of the lock opening downstairs and shut up. The door opened and closed and no sound of Dallas. Good, he thought, he didn't want Dally sitting there all day.

Tim smirked at himself. "Liar," he hissed.

Footsteps padded towards his room and the door creaked open.

"Tim?"

He propped himself up. "Hey, Angela. Look familiar?" He waved exaggeratedly from the floor. "Guess you know how much the room's spinnin' for me now that you've been drunk."

She sat down on the bed. "I thought drinking would help."

"It does."

She shook her head. "Tim, you don't look any happier."

"I ain't happy," he said simply. "'Sthe way things are, Angel. Non-happy."

She bit her lip looking at him. "You've had enough."

Tim took another swallow. "Ain't for you to say."

"Well, I'm saying it."

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Ain't you done enough already?"

"I ain't done anything!" she shouted. "It's all you. You're the one that went for him and now you're the one that has to deal with it. It's your mess not mine."

"Angela, get out of my room," he murmured tiredly.

She stomped her foot. "Tim, the bourbon-"

"Get the fuck outta my room!" he screamed and threw the bottle at her.

He missed by a mile, but she jumped anyway. He hadn't really meant it, hadn't meant to hurt her, she was just standing there, trying to help, trying to love him.

"You're just like _him_," she said scathingly, and he knew who she meant and it hurt. For a second he thought he could understand how someone could get so mean.

Tim hunched forward and put his head in his hands. "I'm sorry," he said, but she'd already left.

He closed his eyes but that didn't help. "I'm so sorry." He hadn't meant to hurt him.

xxx

Tim jogged down the street towards Buck's. He could hear the fight from half a block away, and if ever he'd needed a distraction it was now. The cool night air was sobering him a little, but not enough for him to get control of his thoughts. He couldn't stand to sit in his room anymore, couldn't even look at the bed.

He staggered through the door at Buck's and was almost bowled over by a frantic looking Two-Bit. He heard the yelling and crashing from the fight and slipped through the crowd. Sylvia was standing, tear-streaked, screaming at a pair of grappling figures. Even shit-faced drunk it didn't take him long to connect the dots. Tim's stomach lurched and he pressed forward after Two-Bit as quickly as he could.

xxx

Maybe it was because everything was in slow motion. Maybe it was because he felt so numb, the fists held no more pain than a pillow. He'd never been in so easy a fight in his life. He couldn't hear anything; he could barely see anything. All he felt was rage.

He picked up Sylvia and fairly threw her out of the way before jumping on top of Donny.

Somehow, he missed and Donny pushed him to the ground, backing away and bumping into a couple cowboys playing cards. Dally swore and leapt after him, overturning the card table. He tripped over a chair and broke it, and threw the pieces out of his way before slamming Donny into the wall. Donny shoved him back hard and kicked at his legs. Dally latched onto Donny's arm and dragged him with him as they went down, rolling, cussing, crushing into one another.

Dally ended up on top with no effort. He shrugged off the blows aimed at him and snapped Donny's arm back so hard he might have broken it. He didn't care.

He hit and hit and didn't stop, even when his hand came away wet with blood. It was growing harder to move and as the haze of fury passed over him he realized he was being hauled to his feet by several pairs of hands. Someone was bent over Donny, who was lying very still.

"Christ, Dallas," Two-Bit muttered in his ear. He sounded just as drunk as Dally felt. "What the hell's got into you?" There were more words but he didn't hear them. He broke free of Two-Bit's grasp.

He staggered up, confused and drunk and starting to smart, and watched the newcomer check Donny's eyes and face before standing up and turning around.

It was Tim.

He got in one punch before Two-Bit dragged him away.

xxx

Dally stared into the half darkness, watching the smoke from his cigarette curl into nothing. Beside him, he could just make out the drunken form of Two-Bit, lying sprawled over the bed.

They had staggered down the street from Buck's, Dally hardly able to tell who was supporting whom. It must have been Two-Bit who was leading though, because they ended up at his place.

The house had been dark as they stumbled up the stairs. Dally had tried to think of something to say.

"I'm drunk."

Two-Bit had laughed in agreement.

They had made it to what Dally assumed was Two-Bit's room. Neither of them had bothered to turn on the lights.

Two-Bit let out a shaky sigh. "It ain't fair, you know," he said, his words slurring slightly. "You just – you just do whatever the hell you want." He let out a half sob. "I mean, you don't give a damn about what anyone thinks, you know? You just – do – what – you – want."

"I told you that's what I did," Dallas said sullenly.

"I didn't believe you," Two-Bit whispered. He gave a hoarse laugh.

Dally suppressed a shiver. He didn't like Two-Bit like this. He wished someone else were here, someone who could make sense of the way Two-Bit had been acting. He wished violently for Sodapop.

Two-Bit flipped over onto his stomach, and in the dim light, Dally could just barely seen his wide eyes watching him. It gave him the creeps.

"You're really something aren't you," Two-Bit said, still in a whisper. There was something like awe in his voice, something Dally couldn't place. It made him nervous.

"Yeah, well, still tryin' to figure out what," he said loudly, trying to be cheerful. It didn't come out right. It came out desperate, almost scared.

It struck him as ironic that he was comforting someone now. He wasn't the comforting type – ever. But, the alternative was thinking about Tim. So, he was stayed.

"You know, I been trying forever to figure out what to do." Two-Bit's eyes never left his face. "Hell, I couldn't even _think_ about it by myself. And you come along, and you know exactly what to do, and how to do it and why, and you don't even question it or anything. You just jump right in."

"That ain't always true." Dally looked down. "What the hell are you talkin' about, anyway." He thought he might know.

"You're so fucking brave. Brave or stupid. Maybe both. You just don't give a damn, as long as you get what you want. Goddamn it, Dallas. I wish I was like that."

"No you don't," Dally said alarmed. He stood up quickly. "Look, I'm gonna go get something to eat, okay?"

"Wait!" Two-Bit stumbled off the bed after Dally.

"Listen, you're creepin' me out Two-Bit," Dally said flatly. "I ain't got a single idea what you're talkin' about. So unless you feel like explaining, I'm outta here."

He could hear him breathing. He was close, and from the streetlamp light from outside, Dally could see his eyes shining.

"You ain't cryin'?" Dallas said, shocked. He wished again for Soda.

Two-Bit laughed. It was a nice normal laugh, and Dally appreciated it. Slowly, he relaxed.

"Naw, I ain't. You know me, Dallas."

"I do," Dally said quickly. "And I like you. I mean, you ain't bad. So don't, you know, try to be like me or something dumb."

Two-Bit shook his head. "I like you, too." He took a step closer. "I oughtta do what I want," he said forcefully.

"So do it." Dally was getting impatient.

"I will. But, you gotta understand Dallas," Two-Bit stepped closer, until they were only a foot apart, "I'm only doin' what you would have done."

"Which is?" Even in the almost absolute darkness, Dally could see Two-Bit's smirk.

"Well, I'm gonna think without my head for once."

Dally suddenly realised he was way too close.

"Since when do you think-"

Suddenly there were hands resting on his waist, and warm breath on his cheek. The next instant he was being kissed, the same soft, gentle kiss of always that begged something more. And as always, he gave into it, letting his body be pulled into the sway. For the minute he was fine, it was normal. And then, he felt the tug of teeth on his lips.

"Stop that," he murmured.

The next second he was being bitten. The shock jolted him back to reality, and he suddenly realised that the mouth on his was too invading to be Tim's, and the hands around his waist were gripping too tight, to restrictive, almost so it was hurting. He jerked himself back and almost shouted in surprise.

Then he was flying down the stairs of Two-Bit's house, through the doors and out into the street, down the pavement, running, running just like the last time. He couldn't escape. He couldn't remember for sure if it had really been Two-Bit he'd been running from. He stopped and leaned against a streetlight pole, looking around himself frantically at the trees, the cars, the road, looking for the proof that something was wrong with the world. It was a different street but nothing besides had changed from the way it had been a month ago. Everything was the same, not so good, not so bad, only now…

Now he knew just how good it could be.

He tumbled to his knees on the cement and put his head in his hands as the thoughts of Tim caught up with him at last.


	48. Chapter 48

Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 48

A/N: This is the last chapter. I am very, very, very sad. :( Thank you everyone for sticking with this fic. I appreciate it enormously.

xxx

"It didn't mean nothing."

Dally looked up. He was sitting on a bench at the corner in the dark. Two-Bit was standing under the streetlight, a few feet in front of him. He could see his face clearly and was shocked to find him smiling.

"Come on, Dallas," Two-Bit laughed. "You're takin' it too hard. It couldn't have been that bad."

Dally stared at him. "You just…"

Two-Bit shrugged, embarrassed. 'Yeah. I was curious. You going on about it all the time, and Tim, well…" He shrugged again. "I guess I'm a little soused, too."

Dally closed his eyes, disbelieving. Tim had been right about Two-Bit, after all. "You're a fag as much as I am."

He heard the sharp intake of breath and knew he'd managed to hit the target. He smiled. It wasn't an easy thing to do with Two-Bit.

"I told you, I was drunk and curious," Two-Bit said shortly. "I ain't as if I been having a messy, month-long sex affair with Timothy fucking Shepard."

Dally cringed at the thought of Tim and stood up.

"Well, you shoulda been curious with someone else, cause I'm already taken," he snapped. He winced at the word "taken". It wasn't something he usually thought about himself.

Two-Bit raised an eyebrow at Dallas. "Yeah? The way you was acting at Buck's I figured Tim had decided that you ain't 'taken' no more."

Dally heard himself gasp and felt a stab of anger. He turned around and started walking, hardly knowing where he was headed.

Two-Bit caught Dally's arm. "Come on, don't be so fucking dramatic, kid."

"Shut up...I'm going to find Tim."

"He gonna beat me up for going after his girl?"

"Shut up!"

Two-BIt laughed. "Come on, Dallas. Give it up. It's over."

"No."

Two-Bit watched him, interested. "What, are you in love?"

Dally's silence gave him away before he could think of anything to say.

"Christ on a cracker."

"Shut up. Please..."

"Does he love you?"

"Yeah. Two-Bit just..." Dally turned around walking fast. One more crack and he was going to kill Two-Bit.

"You sure?" The idiot was running after him.

"Yes!"

"He actually say it? Or you just lying to yourself?"

Dally stopped dead.

"He didn't say it did he."

That didn't mean anything. He knew Tim…

"Fuck, Dallas. You're kidding yourself. How many times you seen a broad go crazy cause she loved some guy who just wanted to fuck her?"

He _knew_ Tim.

"Let it go, come on, Dally."

Two-Bit put a hand on his shoulder. Dally wanted to hit him, kick him, yell something, anything. But he couldn't move.

"He broke it off for a reason, Dal." Two-Bit sighed. "Sorry, kid. This is life."

"No." Dally's voice cracked.

"You'll get over it."

"No."

"Hey, at least you got plenty of girls chasing you now. Sylvia's been talking a mean streak about you being great in bed."

Dally gasped and clapped his hands. "Oh, good! I'm so glad. I'm so happy!" He took a deep breath and turned around. "Okay, let's go. I'm through being stupid."

"Attaboy, Dallas."

He didn't cry.

xxx

They took the long way around to Buck's. Two-Bit figured Dally needed it. He didn't make a sound, but out of the corner of his eye, Two-Bit could see Dally wipe his arm across his face every couple of minutes.

A block away, he chanced a look at the blond. Dallas looked back blankly, no trace of tears. "What?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

"Thought you might be a little wetter, given the rain." Two-Bit raised his hands, palms up to the cloudless sky.

Dally's eyes darkened. "Fuck off."

Two-Bit hesitated. "You okay to go in?"

Dally laughed meanly. "Don't be an idiot, Mathews. I ain't goin' in there." He took off at a loping stride, leaving Two-Bit in the dust. "Don't go kissing no other queers," he called back, loud enough to scare Two-Bit, and laughed again.

xxx

The lot was dark and safe and hot and empty. It was the perfect hiding spot. Dally curled himself into a ball and tried not to think. He stared across the street at a porch-light. He counted the blades of grass near his face. He watched an ant crawl over his fingers, too curious to believe himself. It _hurt._

"Dal?"

The sound of someone's voice was enough to push away the self-pity. Dally rolled onto his back.

"Who's there?"

"'Sme."

Johnny peered down into his face. "How's it going?" He frowned, confusedly. "You look… Did your old man kick you out?"

Dally stared at him, astounded that he didn't already know. "I ain't been home in a long while, Johnny."

Johnny sat down on the grass beside him. "Oh. I just meant… You just looked sad, that's all." He squinted at Dally, hesitating. "How come?"

Dally looked at him. "Well, Johnny," he began slowly, "Last month on my birthday, Tim Shepard got stinking drunk and decided to fuck me over. He started it and everything just got worse and better at the same time. Then some fuck-head from his gang found out and started makin' noise, so Shepard quit the deal and left me hanging and now I can't think of nothing but him and I just want him _back._"

He sat up and shuddered. "It fuckin' hurts, Johnny. I didn't think I could hurt this much anymore."

Johnny was quiet for a minute. Then he sighed. "Yeah, Dally, life hurts. And just when you think it can't get no worse, someone goes and kicks you in the balls." He gazed solemnly at Dallas. "But, don't worry, I ain't much for kickin'."

Dally bit his lip and before he knew it the dam had burst and he was howling with laughter and crying at the same time.

Johnny looked at him for a second and then started to laugh, too.

"Aw, that ain't fair, Johnny," Dallas gasped, wiping his face. "Here I was all prepared not to cry and you make me laugh."

Johnny grinned. "It wasn't even that funny."

"Funniest damn thing I ever heard," Dally replied. He lit a cigarette. "Johnny, man, I hope you never have to deal with this shit. On top of everything else, let me tell you, it sucks when your own friends turn on you."

"Friends. Yeah," Johnny echoed.

Dally was quiet a minute. "How much do you know, anyway?"

Johnny shrugged. "Only what you just told me," he said simply.

"Well, in that case, yeah, it sucks when your _friends_ turn on you."

"Yeah, I'll bet it sucks when your lover does, too."

Dally smiled wryly. "Don't get wise. You don't got a habit of being mouthy yet, and now ain't the time to start. I may be a… Well, I'll still pound you into the ground, anyway."

There was a short silence, Dally trying to get his shaky breath under control while Johnny picked at the grass.

"Hell, at least you _had_ a lover. Bein' a virgin ain't no fun."

"Makes it worse." Dally grimaced. "It's worse when you got something good and then it's gone. Don't you know that already?"

Johnny shook his head. "I'd rather have it for a little bit than never have it."

"I wouldn't," Dally said softly. "Life's easier when you don't know what you're missing. You're happier."

Johnny looked at him. "You only think you are. Life's better when some good has happened to you."

"Even if it's not happening no more," Dally whispered.

"Yeah."

Dally closed his eyes. "Can't see why."

"You're hurtin' too much."

"Well, why don't you fucking tell me then," Dally said, irritably.

Johnny smiled. "Cause now you got hope it'll happen again."

Dally was quiet for a long while. Almost all the house lights had gone off before he spoke again.

"Johnny, you're fifteen?"

Johnny had curled up on the grass, and his voice was sleepy when he replied. "Yep. Sixteen March 1st."

"That's half a year away."

Johnny smiled, embarrassed. "Guess I'm looking forward to it."

Dally returned the smile, watching him carefully. "Yeah. We'll make it a good one. I promise."

xxx

Tim walked hurriedly down the street. It had taken longer than he had wanted to calm everybody down. Donny had been barely conscious, which Tim counted as a blessing – he'd had wrath enough coming down on him from the rest of the gang over Dally's flip-out. When Donny healed and started to talk, it was only going to get worse.

Tim rubbed his jaw where Dally had hit him. It stung like crazy but it shouldn't have. Dally had pulled his punch, and in any case, Tim wouldn't ever be taken down by one hit from the tow-head.

Dally couldn't act like that. He had to talk with him, calm him down some and explain why this was the way things had to be. Tim tried very hard to pretend that he wasn't desperate to see him.

"Hey, Shep! Hold up!"

He turned around and saw Two-Bit Mathews tearing down the street towards him.

"What's up," he said impatiently.

Two-Bit skidded to a stop. "You're looking for Dally."

Tim fumbled in his pockets for his cigarettes and found only one. "So?"

"So, leave him alone," Two-Bit said, tiredly. "He sees you, it's just gonna make him more crazy."

Tim felt a wave of irritation pass over him. "It ain't none of your goddamn business."

"He's my friend, so I'd say it is," Two-Bit returned. "He's fine. Just leave him be."

Tim glared at him. "He ain't fine if he'd going around jumping the boys in my gang." He spat. "Heard you got yourself involved."

"Donny's got plenty of friends that were readying to help him out. Half your gang against Dallas didn't seem like a fair fight," Two-Bit said.

Tim shook his head. "I gotta talk to him. Tell him to cool it."

"You know that'd make him turn right around and go lookin' for a fight."

Tim had to admit he was right. He lit the cigarette with a shaky hand, trying to clear his mind. "That ain't-"

"Don't go makin' things worse just cause you miss him already," Two-Bit said softly.

Tim struggled to breath properly. He took a drag off the cigarette and choked on the smoke. "But…"

He looked at Two-Bit.

"He'll be just fine. He's gettin' over you already."

It took several long drags off the cigarette before he could speak after that. "Good," he managed finally.

Two-Bit lit himself a smoke and offered the pack to Tim. Tim hated to bum cigarettes, but he had finished his and he needed it. They smoked in silence for awhile, looking anywhere but at each other.

"You know I kissed him," Two-Bit said suddenly.

Tim went very still.

"Not that it makes much difference now." Two-Bit tried for a laugh, but fell short. He paused, considering. "I saw him after…"

The silence made the air almost thick. Tim could barely breathe.

"What did you do," he whispered.

Two-Bit let out a sigh like a hiss. Miserable. Self-loathing. "I told him I was drunk. I told him it didn't mean anything." His voice was choked with regret.

Tim nodded. "I remember that," he said, voice filled with wonder. He'd remembered rejecting that possibility. Had it only been three weeks since?

Two-Bit's brow furrowed in confusion, but he didn't ask questions. "Yeah," he said. "I told him it was a mistake."

Tim remembered the sex. He remembered joking, lying in bed. He remembered the look on Dallas's face when he'd broken it off. He remembered his rough touch, his ragged breathing, the constant swearing. He remembered...

Two-Bit sighed again. Shrugged. "I guess I walked away from all that. Oh, well." He glanced at Tim. "I almost wish...I wish I hadn't."

Tim laughed until he cried.

He waved off Two-Bit's concern and took a gentle drag off his cigarette, listening to a car drift by, staring at nothing, his mouth relaxed in an easy smile. Heartbroken for the first time in his life.

"You lucky bastard." His voice cracked. "I wish I had."

xxx

The End.


End file.
